Jen Davis

The Sun

The molten glow of the sky lights the earth,

beckoning those from their beds,
waking roosters for their morning wail,
basting blank faces in a golden hue,
warming children as they walk to school,

blanketing the earth with beams of warmth,
shining through the open shades,
beating past tree leaves to the grass blades,
shaping shadows under one’s feet,

sizzling the car’s black leather seats,
roasting those without relief from air fans,
scorching each grain of sand on the beach,
raising temperatures and tempers,

ruining potato salad left on the picnic table,
flaming drought soaked lands,
raining down on the cracking garden soil,
fusing clothes to every crack of one’s skin,

boiling puddles away on the black top,
wearing away color of signs in storefronts,
scarring skin of those who are slaves to the color,

spanning the horizon in the familiar glow,
reflecting glistening beams from the lake,
flickering light for those to find their way home,

the molten sky oozes down to earth.


Ms. Sparkle

There is no twinkle in her eye,
no dimples to her smile,
no glisten to her teeth,
no rose to her cheeks,
no shine to her hair,
no spring to her step,
no bite to her bark,
no pout to her lips,
no glow to her skin,
no perk to her boobs,
no spice to her life,
no cherry on top,

but, on the back of her thong,
where the strings meet and
forms a “T”, there are a
few sparkle beads glued on and
she usually makes a few extra
bucks when she wears them,

the guys like the way they shimmer
when they stuff in their bills.

© Jen Davis

Jennifer Davis holds a MA in writing from DePaul University, Chicago, Illinois. She is the Senior Vice President of Operations at Lever Interactive, a digital marketing agency in Lisle, Illinois. Her and her husband, Chris, are owned by two bulldogs, Hugo and Petunia. Jennifer loves to knit, crochet and other crafts and is an amateur genealogist and has traced her maternal grandfather’s family back to the 1680s from Schwichtenberg, Germany.

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