MiPOesias Magazine

AARON BELZ

Aaron Belz lives in St. Louis, where he curates Readings @ The Schlafly Tap Room and teaches English at SLU. His work has been published recently in Knock, Court Green, The Bedside Guide to No Tell Motel, McSweeney's, and Boston Review, and will soon appear in Painted Bride Quarterly and Unpleasant Events Schedule. For more about Aaron, please visit belz.net or myspace.com/orthodontist.

whose hands

Those three freckles
in a row on your neck?
You know the ones;
I will greet you
by kissing them.

Then, the three
under your right eye?
I will continue
greeting you
by kissing them.

You won't like it
and will likely kick
me in the shin
with your pointy,
incredibly sexy shoe.

discontent

She found me at the pool hall.
I was throwing darts. She said
she'd been biting her jewelry.
It seemed a serious matter.

I asked what her name was,
but she had already disappeared
back into the evening. Cross,
I went home, crawled into bed.

Dreams came, then: of jewelry
impossibly fragile and a woman
strong-minded and strange
and a city that seemed foreign

and of stars hidden behind clouds.
She found me again, in bed,
after midnight, asked: "Darts?"
But by now she was only

a Tinkerbell on the nightstand,
and the word disappeared,
and the window became dark,
and I fell back into dreaming.

Stop by a review of Aaron's work Reveling in White Noise by Francois Luong.