In the Wavelength of Light
red is the longest color, a primary,
bold, blazoning in shades of look-at-me
daring. Embracing natural undertones
of expressiveness, it has become the face of
danger. Nature’s warning of venom’s presence,
man’s signal to cease progression. Yet its allure
remains. Tangible desire drips from its hue
as it shades our eyes with images of love.
Hearts and roses give rise to depth, the heated
center of passion, sex. Lipstick and lingerie
resonate with resilient ability to incinerate
all male defense. A fitting tribute, a reminder that
while biting the apple may have caused the fall,
Eve must have looked good holding it.
The Road to Egg Road
is cracked, and adamantly screaming
that it came first. Ranting, it rages, rising
to temperatures that surely should scramble
the brain. Focuses only on building
roadblocks specifically designed to keep
that incorrigible chicken from crossing.
My Brain is Not Awake
Still tucked beneath down
comforter in a darkened room
without blinds, it waits
for its umpteen millionth injection
of caffeine, knowing it has grown resistant
to rejuvenating effects. My body, on the other
hand, is waist deep in work. Sinking quickly,
a ship without a captain, continues
muscle-memoried motions. Immune
to all forms of shaking and alarms, it refuses
to function without infusion of wind and sun.
Briefly I contemplate jumping from office ledge
for sheer shock value, settle for a five-minute
break at cracked window.
A.J. Huffman has published six solo chapbooks and one joint chapbook through various small presses. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee, and the winner of the 2012 Promise of Light Haiku Contest. Her poetry, fiction, and haiku have appeared in hundreds of national and international journals, including Labletter, The James Dickey Review, Bone Orchard, EgoPHobia, Kritya, and Offerta Speciale, in which her work appeared in both English and Italian translation. She is also the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press. www.kindofahurricanepress.com