Two Poems by Melanie Browne

Before They Begin

She sticks her
juicy fruit gum
on the bedpost
before they begin
he scratches his 
inner thigh and
coughs a little,
on the T.V. is
the droll sound
of true-crime
"people are savages"
she tells him,
flicking her
eyelashes across
the room,
then back to
him again,
"yes they are,"
he replies.

Internal Dialogue Between a Shiny New Year and a Depressive Mind

You could use a bath,
your hangover is the size
of a small state, 
perhaps Rhode Island,
who has as their state Bird
a chicken,
that seems a bit lazy,
like not much thought went
into it,
but who am I to judge,
I know better than to mix drinks
like that and now U2's New Year's Day
is floating in a sound fog
around my third chakra-
wherever that is,
I try to picture the new year,
all golden and bright but
its raining in my brain and the 
toast on the hopeful plate
is a bit soggy,
the NSA might read this poem,
rich people are playing tennis
in outer space,
Al Gore still searches
for Sanctuary
and the sun shines
a little hotter each

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