Wrought & Found

Original poems & found images.

–by Mia Sara

The Moon For Breakfast

The plums looked ripe,
but tasted like an excuse, not sweet,
not tart, not even close to

the common cause. Let’s not dwell
on fruit. The ghouls
have arrived. “Boo,” says
the moon, “Get lost” the sun spits,

at breakfast. The birds are madcap
having lived through
another long night. A doe

ankles her way across the choked
lawn, somewhere

else, a new disease takes hold of home.
The days get shorter, even
in Los Feliz. Here we like to muddle

things, new fears, with the old
gods, and other tricks or treats. My
faith is in the tendency of nightmares

to reveal. Dreams are still
a serviceable way to feed the world.

image credit: Leonid Tishkov

***
Mia Sara is an actress and poet living in Los Angeles. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in poemmemoirstory, Pembroke Magazine, The Write Room, PANK, Cultural Weekly, The Kit Kat Review, Forge, The Dirty Napkin, St. Ann’s Review, among others. For more please visit: http://wheretofindmiasara.tumblr.com/