Wine Lights
by John Minichillo

Your house is embarrassed
  paint it white

 

You need white noise to sleep
   the coldest winter

 

in three years

 

 

White tiger of Las Vegas
White night of the blue moon

 

White hamster fat with desire
  hegemony and tentacled banks

 

 

Sky clouds cotton
   a jet paints a white line

 

 

  a circle of flour
rolls into bread

 

a slicing machine makes dollars
more white than green

 

 

distant sounds chime across
  the frozen ocean

 

a submariner
  records whale sonar
coconut shells held over ears

 

 

Snow in March

 

   Snow in April

 

      Snow in June

 

 

May I surprisingly assert
 the buoyant light of the lunar atmosphere
or the weight of a room?

 

 

Are you in need
  of succor, Ms. Cream Top?

 

I am galvanized, white zinc

 

 

Cigarettes passed around
  like candy

 

nicotine air

 

 

White tennis canvas shoes
  perpendicular chalk drawn lines

 

 

bleached teeth mock bones
bones crave sun dry death

 

 

Keyboard clacks
White page printed

 

 

White lanes

 

White speed limits

 

 

a white buffalo is a sign of something
a white dove is hope

 

 

eggs placed on the lawn undyed—
   otherwise like Easter

 

white dress

white beliefs

 

JOHN MINICHILLO is in the IMDB for something he did when he was seventeen. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Mississippi Review, Third Coast, the anthology Next Stop Hollywood (St. Martin’s), Monkeybicycle, Metazen, In Posse Review, Night Train, DOGZPLOT, Wigleaf, Nashville Review, Northville Review, Staccato Fiction, decomP, Gigantic, and The Norton Anthology of Hint Fiction.

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