Two Poems by Parker Tettleton

Fold-Out

I’m right of two brown bottles wearing your first initial in cursive. There are America-colored cans in the trunk, a redhead lawyering his father. Parents in your bed isn’t a metaphor – it’s a next like another as in day.

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You Get To Know Me

Trash cans Latin microwaves— sex is over us. There’s no Tuscaloosa in a second egg roll. I’m one-legged in a slant; you’re honoring basics.

More poetry at Used Furniture.

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