All apologies / blood red oranges / I let turn grey
in my produce drawer / sun-starved palm tree / all
those chicken legs / stained vintage shirt / blue as
tears / now sauce-splotched / blood blotted under
wear / ice cream left in trunk / boys I could not
love / mother who took the brunt of me / and
myself too: deepest regrets for the running list /
ever-growing through the years—glucose / gluttony /
doubt multiplying like termites / under the patio planks
of my back brain / the chances I never took are huddled
outside like the un-homed / in a rainstorm / I watch them
through the window / feeling sorry / sorry / sorry.
Angelica is a writer from Buffalo, New York who has published or forthcoming work in Westwind Poetry, Mantis, The Laurel Review, The Cardiff Review, North Dakota Quarterly, and Hooligan Magazine, among others. Besides being a devastated poet, Angelica is a communication specialist for a local refugee and survivor organization. She is also currently writing her first novel, so wish her luck.
Image: “Castor and Pollux daytime” by Bill Cawley