Lord’s lost
Him His
mockingbird



His fancy
warbler;









Satan sweet-
talked her






as if
four bullets
hushed her.





Who would
have thought


She’d end
that way?
Hunger

sitting upward squished
between construction worker and high schooler
she feels eyes on her hand full of croissant crumbs
and strong desire to fling the rest
to the end-of-the-day eye begging crowd

parted ways for the old man singer
begging for food or change
she offers up a Fuji Organic Apple
“Heaven on Earth” traced the edge of the sticker


sour hollow eyes
refused to look directly anywhere
blacker than apple stems dug



down to her knees
made them shake so hard
those pieces of bone
cried brittle





those eyes still stuck on her shopping bag
prying their way into fresh pears and contained olives





do they wonder if she could give more and more
till it made a dent in that brown sack, give until
she herself would go hungry

gathered her dignity
although no one was looking anyways
gloves keys and groceries
left the train for the walk down the four blocks home



Charlotte Phillips is an MFA candidate at the City College of New York.