Not Quite Emo

Death wears a camo jacket
and combat boots,
not much else. Her hair
is pitch over pale complexity—
eyes sharply lined and shining,
pout painted crimson.

She casts a grim gothic
shadow, reaping
prolonged glances,
double-takes.

And when
Death cuts,
it’s not herself
the scythe slashes.

Death does not bleed.

Eric Blanchard’s poetry has been published in numerous literary journals and reviews, both on-line and in print, including Autumn Sky PoetryRust and MothBorderlands: Texas Poetry ReviewPudding MagazineAmarillo BayTurbulenceLiterary Orphansand Poetry Quarterly. He currently lives and writes in Dayton, Ohio.