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by Marly Saunders

god; I am telling you
just tear off my legs like
dropping a piano out the
tiny window on my fourth floor;
take the bronze medal and
staple it to your maize,
paint it to your fingertips, your
legacy, and paper airplanes.
fill the crevices of 50 year
commemorative coins,
draw your soul in clear
water color on the icy
edges of the white house.
remember remember remember remember
your bones will turn to ashes in the end.

Marly Saunders is a student in Virginia, the founder of Ash Tree Journal, a poetry editor for Hemingway’s Playpen, and an aspiring author.
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