Tag Archives: Pam Haas

18 Months Without a Head

The crowing reaches morning sunlight

as an unhurried gurgle, alive still       & Lloyd Olsen

whimpers from nightmare to daybreak, dry heaves Mike’s

sunrise anthem. Perched among the hens, the rooster

need not have frightened the neighbors outside

closed curtains. No one wanted to see the rooster without a

warning. Even Lloyd, especially Lloyd who missed

dinner & lost grip that September

evening to axe a species into legend. His bird unhinges

simple realities—sky is blue, can’t live with

head cut off. Scuffing wings announce an en-

lightened body flipping off quaking onlookers. Mike defies

mutilation, flashes Lloyd an unweighted neck hole

Pam Haas is a senior English major and philosophy minor at SUNY Geneseo. Her hobbies include exploring, procrastinating, performing slam poetry, and not thinking about graduating. She also loves to sleep in and fight the patriarchy, but usually not on the same day.

Spider on My Headboard

Your house is not this place, Spider,

the headboard view from those many eyes

could peep my sleepdrooling face

sneak giggles while spinning meals.

The webs you put in corners have no home

where I rest in the dark. Seeing you

my lips stretch along blunted teeth, reach

for seconds to steady breaths—

Do you see yourself in shiny

doorknobs warped belly-big, needle legs knocking?

I hovered a shoe next to my bed: printed

stains       where I laid my head to rest.

Pam Haas is a senior English major and philosophy minor at SUNY Geneseo. Her hobbies include exploring, procrastinating, performing slam poetry, and not thinking about graduating. She also loves to sleep in and fight the patriarchy, but usually not on the same day.