On the Cusp of a Broken Day Stephanie Smith Poetry

local_library On the Cusp of a Broken Day

by Stephanie Smith

Published in Issue No. 232 ~ September, 2016

The air is drunk

with unforeseeable events

and an infected hangnail’s golden glow

I sit on the couch

sewing together my flesh,

singing Sinatra out of tune

as the afternoon lingers

like a painful pimple

eager to explode,

as unwanted as a nuclear holocaust

on a sunny day


All is lost—

holes in our pockets,

frost in our hearts

And poor art trapped in a plastic coffin

that suffocates below the Astroturf


(It’s here we scream and pull at our hair,

unaware we are bald and aging)


How I wish the day was simple—

a fair game of war and peace

At least things wouldn’t feel so dull

I would deem the day acceptable,

shout it from the rooftop

with my sugar-coated tongue


I would kiss the Devil

for His heavy metal lullabies

that send me into fitful sleep

And the next day greets me

with unbridled bliss

at the tip of certain ecstasy

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Stephanie Smith is a poet and writer living in Pennsylvania. Her work has appeared in such publications as ABYSS & APEX, WHISTLING SHADE, THE HORROR ZINE, ILLUMEN, and LIQUID IMAGINATION.