The Tattooed Poets Project, Day 25: Rachel McKibbens

Today's poem is from Rachel McKibbens:

instead of a note, a tiny black box

I dreamt you became an airplane; miniature windows
lined the left and right side of your torso

with small heads peeking out of them.

Some of the people waved. One man blew me a kiss.
Halfway through the dream, it became our wedding.
The arms of your tuxedo removed to make room

for your wingspan. I fed you cake through your propellors.

When I woke up, I half-wished you were going to surprise me
with tickets to Costa Rica. Or news that you were being transferred
to the main offices in Decatur. I didn't expect to find

your side of the bed engulfed in flames, a herd of fire engines

circling the hole in the mattress.

I could not have imagined the tiny island

that surfaced near the headboard later that night,

the bodies of all your ex-lovers

floating off in the distance.

Rachel McKibbens resides in Rochester, NY. She has three tattoos of Ramona Quimby. Her poems have been published in Wicked Alice, Frigg Magazine, World Literature Today and The New York Quarterly. Her first full-length book of poetry, Pink Elephant, is forthcoming on Cypher Books (Fall 2009).

Thanks to Rachel for sharing her poem with us. Now go to Tattoosday and see her cool, knuckle tattoos here.