David Meischen

Supplicant with Rosary Beads
i.
The mercury hovers
at freezing, a heart cold
as the one Pip fell for.
I didn’t want
to fly. I wanted him
to melt me down.
No moon tonight,
windowpane trembling
when the wind shifts.
ii.
Every prayer is curve
and curve
and curve again,
each link keen
as a zipper tooth,
a flamenco’s drumming
steps, fingers that know
where the notes are.
The door in the chest
opens, the mouth rounds
itself into an O, the ache
of missing lovers who took
what they could, crumbs
of ourselves. Kicked,
the anthill scatters—
the children feed
on schadenfreude.
There have to be scars
or there’s no trail to follow.
iii.
They tell me my heart
stopped. I will not
be quieted.

David Meischen has recent poems in Assaracus, Borderlands, Naugatuck River Review, San Pedro River Review, Southern Poetry Review, and Talking Writing. A New York agent is currently promoting his novel in stories. The Gettysburg Review, Autumn 2016, includes a chapter of his memoir in progress, recently featured by Literary Hub. Co-founder of Dos Gatos Press, David served as co-editor of Wingbeats and Wingbeats II, collections of poetry writing exercises. He lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico, with his husband, also his co-publisher, Scott Wiggerman.