One Sentence Poems

Elizabeth Alford Meteor Highway, Just Off 180 Sometimes when all is dark and the night is long and lonely, I stare up and wish on the biggest, brightest star: that it might shine on when I am gone — that it might one day tell you wink by wink all those words I never said. […]

Elizabeth Alford Rush As if sensing my world needed brightening, all the street lamps lit up at once — and for a moment, I forgot (with a child’s neon wonderment) there‘s no such thing as magic. Elizabeth Alford (Hayward, CA) spends long hours typing short poems on her iPhone. http://facebook.com/ElizabethAlfordPoetry

Elizabeth Alford I Had My Wisdom Teeth Out Last Week The last thing I remember is saying “This nitrous smells like Froot Loops” once the unnerving mask was anchored to my face, the sweet gas filling my lungs and veins with a rare flirtatious happiness, and how the surgeon—whose frosted stubble hit just below the […]

Elizabeth Alford Heaven is My Mother’s Apple Pie Once a year (and only under the best possible circumstances) my mother makes her apple pie, and that first bite—oh! how buttery and crumbly the crust, how spicy the forbidden fruit filling still warm from the oven and swirls of cinnamon, sweet and tang waltzing to flavor […]

Elizabeth Alford My Lips Recall the Hills My lips recall the hills and valleys of your body: the dips, the gentle swells of flesh like fertile earth, the curvature of hips and breasts beckoning like mountains, tracing secret paths, parting hairs like grass, how salty lakes of sweat reflect my lamplight’s golden glow. Elizabeth Alford […]

Elizabeth Alford Wisps of October The night we made s’mores at the dining room table— toasting marshmallows on the ends of pretzel sticks over unscented tea candles, watching bubbling balls of fire gradually transform into charred, crispy, gooey ghosts of their former selves which we ate smooshed between graham crackers and half each of a […]

Elizabeth Alford Poetry Will Not Come Today Poetry will not come today— not if I whistle, not if I whoop, not if I whimper, as if to a dog that does not wish to be found: how it slinks through shadows edging moonlit sidewalks and abandoned back alleys, paws to the ground, nose to the […]

Elizabeth Alford Saucy Haiku When pizza is love, your hot cheesy perfection preheats my oven. Elizabeth Alford (Hayward, CA) usually writes poetry on her laptop, but in its absence, will settle for her cell phone. See more of her work @ Facebook.com/ElizabethAlfordPoetry