Lemonade Stand

Poetry by dustin miller and Kyle McNeil

the spot

where the bike
left me 

where the road
kept going

without me

months
of metal

stitches

wheelchair

the body
a house
under repair

and there—

exactly there

a table

paper cups

lemons
cut open

a knife
laid beside them

sugar
in its white pile

ice sweating
in a bag

someone wiping
the surface

then wiping it
again

as if prep
were prep

as if a table
were only

a table

as if bright fluid
poured carefully

from one body
to another

had never meant
anything else

children calling to cars

as if the street
had not once

taken inventory
of me

i said

a lemonade stand
has colonized
the site of my crash

and laughed

because what else
could i do

with sweetness

setting up shop

where impact
had already

spent me

because the world
does not preserve

its altars

it lays out
the tools

cuts what it has

squeezes

stirs 

serves

and sells it
on them

for a dollar

cold

bright

Dustin Miller is a Dallas-based queer poet whose work appears or is forthcoming in Cathexis Northwest Press, Beyond Words Magazine, Audience Askew, and Beyond Queer Words. His poetry examines desire, identity, language, and the structures that shape intimacy. Instagram: @dmiller.dallas.

Kyle McNeil is an Atlanta-based artist whose practice spans print, paint, and ink. Social: @bignpasty