A Sonnet Full of Orange Juice

By M.G. Martin

 

the orange juice is frozen in the cup.
my heart points west by southwest
looking for snowflakes the shape of hiccups
empty in my chest.

if snow were technicolor, or even black &
white,
my head could throb astroturf or sand.
you are skintight.

everything is frozen and tart.
my mouth slowly says: orange juice?
but you depart
what is the use?

my heart steals the candy out of children.
what else could it do, outside of its skin?

M.G. Martin is the author of One For None (Ink). A Pushcart nominee, his work has appeared in ZYZZYVA, Explosion Proof, PANK, Word Riot, and Requited, among others. From Hawaii, M.G. lives in New York, but will soon reside in South Korea. Find him at:  www.mgmartin.tumblr.com and @themgmartin.



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