maureen kingston



Counting your Chickens


You interrupt
the hawk’s butchery,

the pullet’s belly
already clawed,

her caesarian egg
spilling out,

un-nacred, soft,
a homeless pearl.






String Theory & the Bedroom A/C


The bat skinnies himself, slips in through a side vent,
temporarily nimble, like a fly tap-dancing on super glue,
a dangerous rink, yet the prize too tempting not to risk.
He winches his spine into a corner, sarongs his wings.
I hear him stretch. He hears me snore. Two mammals
content to ignore the usual shadow play, the hysteria
of brooms and dive-bombs. We’re enemies on R&R
sharing a tent in no man’s land, embracing our love
of white noise--her Scheherazade corset, her thousand
and one strings of divine delay.






Maureen Kingston’s poems and prose have appeared or are forthcoming in B O D Y, Gravel, IthacaLit, Stoneboat, Stone Highway Review, Terrain.org, and Verse Wisconsin. A few of her prose pieces have also been nominated for Best of the Net and Pushcart awards. 




















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