Swimming in Yellow
Yellow swimsuit + ocean = sharkbite.
The strange man with an obvious death wish
on television could not have explained it
any better, and I thought, how unfortunate
that one of the most popular beach songs inspired
myself, and doubtlessly millions of other females
to buy yellow polka-dotted bikinis.
I rush to my summer drawer immediately, yank
the suicidal fabric from its home, toss it
in the garage with the other bleached out suits
set aside for chlorinated water only. I make a note
to pick up a new black suit or two, a color
the great white predators all but ignore.
Then I make another note to pick
up a pair of camouflage swim trunks
to send to my ex for his birthday. Underwater
predators confuse them for sea turtles, often
like to take a tiny biteor two.
Color Fills the Universe
He flickers, a thick viscous light—
life-generating. She is
endless, formless, all-
consuming. Their touch is
simple, studded with fierceness—
desire set ablaze. The world burns
around them like a rainbow
whose sole purpose is to dissolve
I hate you like a tossed salad.
A bowl full of healthy
diet-perpetuating rabbit food.
I pick at tasteless
leaves slathered in oil and vinegar.
Fork over fork, I consume.
My inner carnivore growls
in protest. Remains
A.J. Huffman has published twelve full-length poetry collections, thirteen solo poetry chapbooks and one joint poetry chapbook through various small presses. Her most recent releases, Degeneration (Pink Girl Ink), A Bizarre Burning of Bees (Transcendent Zero Press), and Familiar Illusions (Flutter Press) are now available from their respective publishers. She is a five-time Pushcart Prize nominee, a two-time Best of Net nominee, and has published over 2500 poems in various national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, The Bookends Review, Bone Orchard, Corvus Review, EgoPHobia, and Kritya. She is also the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press. www.kindofahurricanepress.com.