All yours—a love like documentary.
I’m kept on one foot standing—my love,
flamingo, swallows whole: blue-green algae,
a dozen shrimp. Erupts into pink. Love
adjusts its lens, inspects the plume. Unsees
me into plastic fact: some females lose
their song. Love tucks us at the knees
and sinks us into lawn, can-crunch of booze.
Love, in his lawn chair, strong-
backed and still—I blush beta-carotene.
I make my quiet mine: my practiced wrong,
my afterwards. My seeping into scene.
This unmoving bird, ready to feed.
Its no-song, a handshake. I never agreed
Lauren Yarnall is a third year Master of Fine Arts candidate in Poetry at the University of Idaho, where she also works as the Editor in Chief of Fugue. She is from Ellicott City, Maryland and received her bachelor’s degree in Creative Writing from Salisbury University. She is a Centrum fellow and Pushcart nominee, as well as a Best of the Net nominee and finalist for Yemassee's 2018 Poetry Contest. Lauren's work has previously appeared or is forthcoming in Thrush Poetry Journal, Sugar House Review, Waxwing Magazine, Muzzle Magazine, Puerto del Sol, and elsewhere.