Three Poems by A J Huffman

Want Never Leaves a Scent

Every surface of you is a desert,
a gap in the curtains, a dissolving
distance. Your mother should have named you
Desire. You inspire images of feral horses, sweating
beasts — runaways, waiting for virile badge of approval,
the almost-reflective smile
from lips that long to swallow.

A Parody Without Brooms or Knives           

Inside me, two small sign posts
scream obsolete obscenities.
I bite my thumb in remembrance of
their useless points. The vibrancy
of the message is getting restless.
The background refuses all requests
for release. I am waiting to suffocate
anything that makes a desperate break.
I know whatever makes it out will be
ready to consume the world.

My Mother Should Have Named Me Silence

I hold my tongue with both hands
in abeyance, not patience.
My mouth is a volcano,
a mutiny of stifled
frustrations, waiting to erupt,
explode and corrode anyone in its path.


A J Huffman has published thirteen full-length poetry collections, fourteen solo poetry chapbooks and one joint poetry chapbook through various small presses. Her most recent releases, The Pyre On Which Tomorrow Burns (Scars Publications), Degeneration (Pink Girl Ink), A Bizarre Burning of Bees (Transcendent Zero Press), and Familiar Illusions (Flutter Press) are now available from their respective publishers. She is a five-time Pushcart Prize nominee, a two-time Best of Net nominee, and has published over 2600 poems in various national and international journals, including: Labletter, The James Dickey Review, The Bookends Review, Bone Orchard, Corvus Review, EgoPHobia, and Kritya. She is the founding editor of Kind of a Hurricane Press. You can find more of her personal work here:

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