Marc Darnell is an online tutor and lead custodian in Omaha NE. He received his MFA from the University of Iowa, and has published poems in The Lyric, Rue Scribe, Verse, Skidrow Penthouse, Shot Glass Journal, The HyperTexts, Candelabrum, The Road Not Taken, Aries, Ship of Fools, Open Minds Quarterly, The Fib Review, Verse-Virtual, Blue Unicorn, Ragazine, The Literary Nest, The Pangolin Review, and elsewhere.
Pink Baby On Yellow Bed Sheets
And the world outside screams and swirls, but the room celebrates its own cubism, drapes angular, aquamarine, protective of the Jesus girl, clementines in a chain off the corner of the dresser. Light rolls in a seagull fog upon the sleeping bulb of rosiness. O nesting blank, amoebic, you are all globular and dream with eddying thoughts of your mother's waning spring. But beyond this Cezannian roof of sweat and crooked straw, the crowds cut each other endlessly, revising their laws and dying dumber than they were born.
The Domination Of White
She lay in O'Keeffe petals, white, and octopus cords land-sick in this moth butter of a room, while the phantom scrubs outside drained the living out of the dying and sipped saccharine sewage. The outer grounds were a spiral, a beating bloody onion of new black and red Toyotas that escaped her mind as all other inventions, including spoons and artificial roses. One cell had snowballed, divided into blizzards within, gusts of prickly, morphing cauliflower that loved the love out of her organs, as her skull became more skull and heaven's windows went dull.
A Recitation Of Tint
There are people sporting off-white faces who look horizontally at burning houses with glass replacement eyes. And green and blue-striped faces glued to the grape sky and it's boneless blackbirds falling like ink drops. The off-white faces lie in the sun to darken their pride, but their pride is at its peak, so they stand in their beige bathrooms translucent in their mirrors. The striped ones dance on the O of HOPE as if tribal with the dragonflies, and when they look in the lake reflection is just that king of loving sea monsters. Color is heart-deep, animal-deep. May we return to all fours, smell, howl, sleep roofless, abandon star-worship.