Dylan Zucati

For Lady Part 1

Unnaturally natural red hair

Died to the tune of her love


Laughter for every occasion

Never intentionally yet always

Correctly expressing

A heart so big

Men use it for target practice

All wrapped up in a restless soul

That has no time to wander


She lives onstage

And in a bar with friends

And alone in her room,

Just her cat for company


I know her lost in a book

In Central Park

Visiting the turtles


Fingers gliding across a page

Down a back

Strumming the chords of her uke

Leaving marks on her fingers

From her favorite lover

The only one to never leave


She bites her nails

Anxiety eating her like cuticles

Butterflies biting her stomach lining

Twisting her guts raw

She smokes them out

With a stickier citronella

Than you’ll find on any shelf


Peace crescendos from her mouth

Accented by staccato coughs

Like a melody she doesn’t mean to sing

A lone feline serves as audience

In her most vulnerable space

His tail, swishing along

Keeping time with her broken duet

Construction Paper Owls

what is Cancer?