Monique Quintana – My Plume Drunk / or Love is Fiction


Monique Quintana

My Plume Drunk / or Love is Fiction

            For Carleigh Takemoto

I find Macaw beneath the lattice of bone, dozing the third and fourth bikes we rode last dawn. I only find crave in the turn when luck buckles my shoe strap to keep me from drowning. I don’t think of luck anymore, not until now, when it teaches me how to look the right way on film. And now I’m enamored with the green sea. Luck tells me not to remember it again. Macaw reminds me of things that I bought me, parachute sleeps storied of mule deer from our mountain, but when I come close, touch her head, she murmurs love, the violent umbrella, the last pour rite there that luck gave me.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: