Scratched

Donna Dallas

Walked back to the beach

to comb through the sand

in search of the yesterday

I left there

in a selfish frenzy

of reckless abandonment

I wandered the edge of an eclipse

for days until the moon hung

from its noose

pumpkin orange

waves crashed in anger

I felt the rage in my core

thought I heard the tide laugh

as if mocking my guilt

but it was just my mind

playing tricks under the brilliant moon

while I spewed all this contained rage

to a dead night

as it rolled out

sucked under 

by the deafening black tide

Donna Dallas: Studied Creative Writing and Philosophy at NYU’s Gallatin School and was lucky enough to study under William Packard, founder and editor of the New York Quarterly.  Lately, she has published in Horror Sleaze Trash, Beatnik Cowboy and The Opiate among many other publications. She published her first novel, Death Sisters, with Alien Buddha Press. Her first chapbook, Smoke & Mirrors, will launch this fall with New York Quarterly. She currently serves on the editorial team for Red Fez and New York Quarterly.