Fucking Flowers

by Jane Ripley

Fucking flowers in Spring.
Fucking flower patterns on dresses.

I long for darkness
Noir films and Goth kids
Swaddled in black.

I long for my Mother’s dark 
Sense of humor
As we laugh while watching “Psycho.”

I want to listen to Joy Division on vinyl.
Release my misanthropic nonparticipating self
Seal the blinds and contemplate next-to-nothing.

Fuck the fucking tulips. 
Hurl the hollyhocks.
Damn the daisies.
How I hate the douche bag day lilies.

Let’s all pretend it’s winter 
When the bulbs are in the ground.

I crush the daffodils with my feet
And shred the peonies with my nails.

Fuck the flowers
Fuck the flowers
All of them.


Jane Ripley graduated from Columbia College in Chicago, IL in 1993. She was a featured reader at the “Don’t Yell at Me” reading, circa 2017. Her poetry chapbook, Hot Dog Soup, is in its second printing. She lives in Lyons, CO with her cat Renegade.

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