three poems

by Darren C. Demaree

Emily As We Were Given a Room With a Balcony Art is open-aired & Emily is art. I have seen her breasts swing from the street & known I wouldn’t have to paint anything ever again. I wrote this poem only after I took the blurry picture from beneath her. I never am able to quite frame her without shaking.   Emily As the Light Folds Into Darkness I used to claim that Emily could manipulate physics, but that was when I was drinking a lot. Now, I know she is the best kind of witch. I’ll let you know how dark her magic gets when she’s done with me. I’ll be that snap of light willingly tucked, folded into itself to please her.   Emily As We Separate the Teeth From Our Smiles The cure sauntered into our lives & kissed us on the damn mouth before we knew what it was. I welcome the affection of any truth, but Emily wasn’t so happy when she found out that she would have to stop drinking as well if we were to stay married. She hasn’t stopped drinking & we’re still married but she knows exactly what that kiss meant. She knows how to identify my body if it’s found outside our house. That’s enough for her. —
Darren C. Demaree is the author of eight poetry collections, most recently Two Towns Over, which was selected the winner of the Louise Bogan Award from Trio House Press.  He is the recipient of a 2018 Ohio Arts Council Individual Excellence Award, and the Nancy Dew Taylor Award from Emrys Journal.  He is the Managing Editor of the Best of the Net Anthology and Ovenbird Poetry.  He is currently living in Columbus, Ohio with his wife and children.
Artwork by: Michelle Granville Michelle Granville is a mixed media artist living in the west of Ireland. Her work has appeared in or is forthcoming in Dodging The Rain, Riggwelter Press, Telltale Chapbooks and Sad Girl Review among others. Links Twitter: @michellegranv Instagram: @beleafmoon