MX-76 by Dana Miller

Photo by Pawel Czerwinski on Unsplash
Sneerwise, I’ve seen better
Dearborn, without the metal
I’d go on to abort you like any other paperweight hitchhiking across my belly
and just that fast
Grace Kelly has figured out the new math,
I’m afraid
and lordess, but you’re a strict equation
Despite the munitions manifest
under the crown of your abdication
I just keep on loving you like caloric restriction and late-70s cocaine
stretching myself out like St. Swithin’s Day across your salt lick
whole oceans of Tawny Kitaen
for my Helen Reddy moment
I’d sober up if I were you
The flecks of Roberta Flack in me will leash every lime tiger
leaping out of your 43rd-floor window with a piano strapped to its back

Dana Miller
Dana Miller is a writer and melomaniac from Atlanta, Ga. When not wielding a lethal pen, she adores surf culture, muscle cars, vintage clothing, Australian grunge bands, Epiphone guitars, glitter, Doc Martens, and horses of every ilk. Her forever spirit-home is Oxford, England and Radiohead is holding the very last shard of her original girlhood heart.

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