Via Negativa by Maggie Millner

Reality is just a giant nip-slip
Nature, the Internet
Fine art is a nip-slip
And every drug you ever did

Loving someone is a nip-slip
Not to mention sex
The tree by my house is in a constant state of nip-slip
The white-sand beach, forget it

A beautiful man is a nip-slip
And God, an areola that is slipping through the fog
Lightning is the nip-slip of a galaxy
And nightmares are a nip-slip into hell

My life is a long, slow nip-slip
I grasp alarmingly for others at the moment
That a nip slips into view

My loneliness is a nip
I show to no one
Like an unflattering photo from my youth

 

 
 

Maggie Millner lives in California, and her work has appeared in Phoebe, Interrupture, 32 Poems, and elsewhere.