Poems by Holly Day

            Beneath Our Feet

the warm breath
of giants sleeping as the snow comes down
carves holes in the unbroken
white landscape.

the giants sleep as the village children
drag heavy sleds up to the highest peaks
of bulbous noses, before hurling themselves into the air.

Just Get in The Car

Let’s go to Florida, slather our bodies with suntan lotion, drink.

Let’s go to Ohio, trade our car in for a tractor, drink
Tell incredible stories about futures that will never happen. Let’s just drive.

Let’s go to California, stop at Kinko’s to run off sets of business cards
Of people no one’s ever heard of, stop for pedicures in Beverly Hills,
Strap ourselves into a convertible, drive until we hit a surfer

Drive straight into the sunrise, drive until the tires hit the water.
Drive until our car hits a cow, or a buffalo, or an Indian.


as death—“what’s happened to my son?”
the eyes, so tightly closed
elvin frail and pale
questions she should never ask.

screams and tries to look behind the smile
reclining in his midnight coffin
pulls apart his lids
in hope of finding answers.