Wednesday, October 17, 2012

A Poem by Denise R. Weuve

Fire Eater
In Malibu
the fires
are finally 
out, but ashes
like fine despair.
Somebody's hopes
my Toyota
and I dust them
the way you once
did me. But I
should not
care when I hear
you are engaged
yet my
stomach tightens
on the smoke that
is your
ghostly presence
still on my love
seat. How
quickly could I
your new
woman's burning
if I told of
our bed
smoldering lust
into love. Tongues
like blue flames
into each others
‘til we ignited.
I always knew
I was
strong enough
to eat fire. Would
she leave
you? Cold gray groom
at the altar
the way
you left me for
an icy North,
when hot
embers still burned
in my stomach.
I am
fine now, gutted,
an empty house,
for men to search
through. Still, I wish
you the
best, but warn you,
not all women
can eat
fire and survive.
Denise R. Weuve’s work appears or is forthcoming in Carnival Literary Magazine, Emerge Literary Journal, Eunoia Review, Gutter Eloquence, Pearl, RipRap, San Pedro River Review, and South Coast Poetry Journal. She teaches English and Creative Writing in Cerritos, California and is actively seeking the perfect MFA program (or one that will take her-which ever comes first). She collects paper cuts, and other miscellaneous damage to display in glass cases (her blog Contact her at or follow her on facebook,

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