A woman doesn’t have to be around long,
or even be around a lot,
for the seed to be planted in a man.
Time after time that seed rots away.
Leaving a husk,
filling a tiny space.
The space needed for another seed.
We all carry around the husks of our former loves,
garbage we can never empty.
So be careful out there,
be careful when you let a woman plant that seed.
Or not, I guess.
I never am.
More from Issue #3
Plowing Another Field by Donald Buhl-Brown
The farmer drove by again, louder this time. His tractor tearing the ground up. Planting another harvest, I wonder if he knows, it is his last. That is the funny thing about…
Not Today Demons by Donald Buhl-Brown
It sits in the shadows of my living room, he just sits and waits for me. Just waiting for the chance to pounce. Not tonight I say again. Not tonight. This demon…
That Single Orange Light by Donald Buhl-Brown
One single orange light, is shining through my window. It continuously keeps me awake. But when I am walking home from work… Exhausted, covered in dirt, just wanting to fall asleep. You’d…
Cling by Erin Vance
A pale flag that emerges from the soil, hovers stifled with dirt, and cries, it’s sweet whiskey snap and you, the ligaments of a chorus, dry, split.