California is not the only beautiful place to live - Amelia Furlong

all summer girls are sad

stretched out on pleather couches

under the slicked-back fronds of rotting

palms, skin puckered in the salt-breeze

while tan lines thicken around the bands

of bathing suits & flip flops.


all my summer girls are sad,

witch bitch communist dumpster sluts

sitting poolside drinking white claws

from the punctures left by their acrylics,

seagulls picking at the rainbow sludge

of the google Pride bus floating belly-up—


these are the ends of times but at least they’re paid for.

all my girls still live in summer

too hot to be believable, they speak

& their words sharpen steak knives

cut a hole in the fabric of time.

I’d roll through but that was in another country

& besides, the wench is dead.


Amelia Furlong is a new poet whose poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Ropes 2020 and Strukturriss. She recently graduated from the MA in Writing at the National University of Ireland, Galway.

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