Revocation by Stephanie Lane Sutton

by Leslie Anne Mcilroy


Some say a missed opportunity is glue dried to the cap.
If only it worked more like a faucet and less like a ghost.

Last week, I deleted all the messages off the machine
without listening to any. Later, I called the police on a neighbor

who put his fist between each tooth in the bevel of his wife’s
shiny brass mouth. When they knocked on my door I didn’t answer.

Some say a missed opportunity is like a dead horse.
If only it worked more like a faucet and less like a ghost.

Once, the man I did not marry punched the wall behind my head
over and over while his baby cried my thighs to wet red.

Sometimes I spend a whole day under the sheets pretending
to be a ghost. Last week, my new husband took me to the beach.

The waves were frozen up high and covered in snow.
I wanted to say I know how that feels. Once, a baby stuck

inside of me like I had been chewing gum in my sleep. I combed
him all out with some red and green pills. I felt just like a faucet.

Some say a missed opportunity is like a baby who starts crying
and won’t shut up. Others say all bodies will end up two

chalk erasers cymbaling together in clouds of unrained skies.


Photo of Stephanie Lane Sutton

Photo of Stephanie Lane Sutton

Stephanie Lane Sutton is a Midwestern poet and performer. She is a co-facilitator of Surviving the Mic, a poetry series for survivors of sexual assault and domestic violence. Recently published poems can be found in Tinderbox, FreezeRay, and The Fem. Her performances have been featured on Button Poetry and her chapbook,  Revocation, is the winner of the Wicked Banshee Chapbook Contest, forthcoming in 2016.