2 poems by Kris Coffield

Wondering After All



minutes too late

to say no


grinning pumpkin

many monsters

no costumes


whistling snow

his lust filled eyes

my northern lights


budding lotus

trading wall shadows

for daydreams


starry night—

who will paint

life on Mars?




When I’m attempting suicide,

I prefer eating corn.


Caramel sweet,

sturdy gene stock,

safe from insects

boring through its

roots, bleeding a

skim milky sap on

my craving fingers,

slightly poisonous,

perhaps, like buying

a chemical peel in

the Endotoxin River

Delta, often eaten

raw, perfect for

taco shells.


My final will and testament,

a kernel in my teeth.


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