Evensong
The curb,
leaf-littered, street-lit dark,
a fat gray snake.
Someone
tumbles down the
graph that is
the steep uneven
mountain slope
of the broken
hearts of dogs. The
small dog eyes
your meat. Longing
is such a flavor
on its tongue. Outside|
a cat balances on
the curb, sits down,
licks itself. Do
you imagine a paw or
a crotch? To whom
might this matter?
If you take a
walk after dinner, you'll
be oblivious to
most of the dramas
all around you.
It's a kind of privacy.
It's a kind of
heart-break. It's a kind
of bread. It's
the flavor of longing
on your tongue.
Kyla Houbolt writes poems and occasional reviews and takes care of two goats. Chapbooks But Then I Thought available from https://abovegroundpress.blogspot.com/, Tuned available from https://cccpchapbooks.bigcartel.com/product/tuned-selected-poems-by-kyla-houbolt, and Surviving Death available from https://thebrokenspine.co.uk/product/surviving-death-kyla-houbolt/. She is on Bluesky at https://bsky.app/profile/luaz.bsky.social. Website: https://kylahoubolt.us/
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