In a Pinch
The girl is sweetness,
and is life, full of golden honey
promises and words that edge
on a soft, moving tongue.
But life has a way of pinching us,
squeezing us, forming us like clay
into a form we did not intend.
So when we see her again, the beauty
has gone, the voice now ashes,
the stories full of disappointment.
I Am Not the Ghost
They say there is a ghost nearby,
but it is not me.
Though they seem to see right
talk roughly over me,
and though my hand passes through
physical objects with ease.
Couldn’t possibly be me.
He’s, at best, a puppet,
displaying, showcasing, insinuating
the orders passed down to him.
At worst, he’s the evil held in the world,
the serpent in the garden,
offering fresh fruit like a salesperson.
Try a plantain, he offers. They’re so
sweet and delicious.
JD DeHart is the author of The Truth About Snails, a chapbook. His blog is jddehart.blogspot.com, and he is a staff writer for Verse-Virtual.