THREE POEMS by R.S. BRANDRIFF

ROAD CLOSURE: WE WELCOME YOU


ROAD CLOSED AHEAD

—a bright spot on the side

of the hill, steep

drop on the other. Add a

visual component

to the white snowy

mountains,

show some technical ability, paint

the canvas with God—hiss

like you can do

better—

and all that is lost there we will find together

 

FUCK SOCIETY, I'M GOING TO BE A HERMIT IN THE MOUNTAINS


as long as

a forest of firs

has to be at work by six,

even ancient gods

can not dream the world

or feel a wish into being –

the impression of

absolute power

 

LOVERS' WALK


“It’s not perfect,”

anguish whispers in her ear.

“It’s exactly right.”

Tremors, huddled up,

a trace of

regret

on her breath.

“What is it, my

darling? Are you

unhappy in love?”

 

R. S. Brandriff (they/he/she) is a writer, poet, and software developer living in the American Southwest with their two cats and far too many coffee mugs. They write about love, neurodivergency, and the apocalypse, with poetry upcoming from Sledgehammer Lit and Zenith Lit Mag, and you can find them on Twitter @_hedgebones writing microfiction, and on their website, hedgebones.com.