Shanti Weiland

Defect

You were smart,
to slip out first.
I remember when boys
laughed at your red
face, the trouble
your kidney’s failure
caused when you didn’t make it
to Typing class, and I had no idea
that you died.
You were 12, and I lost it
in History.

Today, a blogger
called “homos”
victims of a birth…Read more Defect

How It Happened

It happened in the woods,
of course, where all that growls
maintains a weird light.

Dreams are petal cut-outs against
wood that happen
to ignite even the barest
fraction of memory. 

The slightest growl
in the dark you remember
fingering your afghan
that night, as a branch
tapped the glass.

Only it wasn’t the woods…Read more How It Happened

Werewolf

Sister Nun does not mind
that she’s a werewolf. It doesn’t
bother her to think of the night
he pierced her back with dirty
claws, infecting her
with the urge.

Dogs bark at the night, prepare
for Sister’s visit. She gnaws their
bones, humps the women, and makes
everyone laugh.

But not everybody likes Sister
Wolf. The humans grab their
rifles or, in a pinch, chuck
silver bangles at her and…Read more Werewolf

Tasha Yar At Her Best

Pain is a small price
to pay for clarity.
Just ask Tasha, she’s died twice,
so far. But at her worst, she often
felt her best. Crawling
through trenches, phasers
set to kill. A clear target
in the muck. Even her daughter, defying
genetics with her mother’s
blonde bob, disappointed
Picard in every, single way.
Armor and purpose. Family legacy.

But here’s a secret
that Tasha never told anyone:
Her death fantasy (and we all
have one) was to expire by the pool…Read more Tasha Yar At Her Best

Smile Stew

I slice
my smile
as though
a lamb
chop onto
the skillet.
Clinks.
Champagne
flutes
on New Year’s.
Extra teeth.
I am cooking you
smile stew.

You have asked
for it many times,
but I tell you
it’s too much…

Read more Smile Stew