I smoke in the shower.
Hung–over, ears throbbing–
The water drains away
Isn’t life a quick shatter
of glass, a straw that ignites the fire
what we remember? Shocking
in a peaceful way and I, like you
continue on with the morning, the day,
evening and night. Continue on.
My arms hang out the window
I can still smell the char
of the old beams now black
against the tender
morning sky; reflecting light pink
and yellow rays.
Aaron Dargis grew up in Michigan and now lives in the Piedmont area of South Carolina. He is currently an MFA student at Converse College and Poetry Co-Editor for South85 Journal. His most recent poems, “Grey Partridge” and “Kitchen Sink” have appeared in Panoply Magazine.