Lauren Eggert-Crowe



Come at me with babies

I am the mutant by the cheese plate

Painted nails like peanut m&ms, I am your bag of gross candy

Counting all the reasons to be tired

I am worth less in pennies

A sign that doesn’t want to be used

I wait for you to unlock the door and scare me

Kiss me for seven days, I will make myself

known to you              In my dreams I am

the baddest betrayal               either way

your bones creak over the traffic sounds





Too hot to sleep in the done city

Blasé sunshine

I leave places like it’s going out of style

Trash on the ficus-broken sidewalk

Women slapping each other on TV

Hyphenated hoods and the interlopers in their cars

The dust comes into my house and never leaves

My feet charcoal the sheets, my bird-pecked

pomegranates swinging like lanterns beyond the curtain

Where are you dark and gleaming

What is the limit to your thirst

My mouth now puckers with salt and vinegar

The mice and the heat wave are back

I arrange pumpkins for a story

Every day i count all the things I could lose

and then I lose them again

Echo on the train station tiles

As if your sins didn’t happen

I do not forgive easily without a god

Lauren Art Car 1.jpg
Lauren Eggert-Crowe is the author of four poetry chapbooks: Bitches of the Drought, In the Songbird Laboratory, The Exhibit, and Rungs (co-authored with Margaret Bashaar). Her work has appeared in Black Warrior Review, horse less review, DIAGRAM, Springgun, Sixth Finch, and elsewhere.
Mark Cugini