Tag Archives: Elizabeth Alford

Elizabeth Alford

Meteor Highway, Just Off 180

Sometimes
when all is dark
and the night is long
and lonely,
I stare up and wish
on the biggest,
brightest star:
that it might shine on
when I am gone —
that it might
one day tell you
wink by wink
all those words
I never said.


Elizabeth Alford (Hayward, CA) writes poetry on her cell phone when she’s not selling you secondhand merchendise. Facebook.com/ElizabethAlfordPoetry

Elizabeth Alford

Rush

As if sensing
my world needed brightening,
all the street lamps
lit up at once —

and for a moment, I forgot
(with a child’s neon wonderment)
there‘s no such thing
as magic.

Elizabeth Alford (Hayward, CA) spends long hours typing short poems on her iPhone. http://facebook.com/ElizabethAlfordPoetry

Elizabeth Alford

I Had My Wisdom Teeth Out Last Week

The last thing I remember is saying
“This nitrous smells like Froot Loops”
once the unnerving mask was anchored
to my face, the sweet gas filling my lungs
and veins with a rare flirtatious happiness,

and how the surgeon—whose frosted
stubble hit just below the mountain peaks
of his cheek bones—cracked a crescent smile,
bent low like a lover looking for a kiss,
and in his winter-soft accent breathed lightly
into my ear: “Just follow your nose.”

Elizabeth Alford (Hayward, CA) is a voracious carbnivore who has also been known to eat her own words. See more of her work @ Facebook.com/ElizabethAlfordPoetry

Elizabeth Alford

Heaven is My Mother’s Apple Pie

Once a year
(and only under the best
possible circumstances)
my mother makes
her apple pie, and that first
bite—oh! how buttery
and crumbly the crust, how
spicy the forbidden fruit
filling still warm from the oven
and swirls of cinnamon,
sweet and tang waltzing to flavor
on the ballroom floor
of my tongue—is almost enough
to make me sing praise
to a god I don’t believe in,
even though I know
deep in my heart
and in my stomach
that if there is an afterlife,
it is after Thanksgiving dinner
and that my mother
is a god of gods
who can bake the whole
of the universe
into a pie.

Elizabeth Alford (Hayward, CA) is a voracious carbnivore who has also been known to eat her own words. See more of her work @ Facebook.com/ElizabethAlfordPoetry

Elizabeth Alford

My Lips Recall the Hills

My lips recall the hills
and valleys of your body:

the dips, the gentle swells
of flesh like fertile earth,

the curvature of hips and breasts
beckoning like mountains,

tracing secret paths,
parting hairs like grass,

how salty lakes of sweat reflect
my lamplight’s golden glow.

Elizabeth Alford (Hayward, CA) is a voracious carbnivore who has also been known to eat her own words. See more of her work @ Facebook.com/ElizabethAlfordPoetry

Elizabeth Alford

Wisps of October

The night we made s’mores
at the dining room table—
toasting marshmallows
on the ends of pretzel sticks
over unscented tea candles,
watching bubbling balls of fire
gradually transform into
charred, crispy, gooey
ghosts of their former selves
which we ate smooshed between
graham crackers and half each
of a Hershey’s chocolate bar—
was the last night I thought
with absolute certainty
that our love
would never melt down,
reach the end of its wick,
and burn out completely.

Elizabeth Alford (Hayward, CA) usually writes poetry on her laptop, but in its absence, will settle for her cell phone. See more of her work @ Facebook.com/ElizabethAlfordPoetry

Elizabeth Alford

Poetry Will Not Come Today

Poetry will not come today—
not if I whistle, not if I whoop,

not if I whimper, as if to a dog
that does not wish to be found:

how it slinks through shadows
edging moonlit sidewalks

and abandoned back alleys,
paws to the ground,

nose to the wind, waiting
to catch a familiar scent,

to satisfy bared teeth
and the rumble in its gut.


Elizabeth Alford (Hayward, CA) usually writes poetry on her laptop, but in its absence, will settle for her cell phone. See more of her work @ Facebook.com/ElizabethAlfordPoetry

Elizabeth Alford

Saucy Haiku

When pizza is love,
your hot cheesy perfection
preheats my oven.


Elizabeth Alford (Hayward, CA) usually writes poetry on her laptop, but in its absence, will settle for her cell phone. See more of her work @ Facebook.com/ElizabethAlfordPoetry