Trashcan Funeral | Sage Curtis

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Sage is a San Francisco Bay Area writer fascinated by the way cities grit and how women move through the world. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Vinyl, Glass Poetry, Agape Editions, burntdistrict, Yes Poetry, and more. She was a finalist for the Rita Dove Award in Poetry and the Gigantic Sequins Poetry Award, as well as an Honorable Mention for the Wrolstad Contemporary Poetry Series. She owns her body of work to her mentors and cohort at the MFA at University of San Francisco.


The Things That Keep Me Up At Night

red wine lipstains, the grease
spot on the hem of my green dress,
my leatherjacket straightjacket,

watching her light up
an American Spirit & sunglasses,
laced up boots, an exposed

breast on a balcony above a dumpster
surrounded by city lights.
It’s two am.

If I find myself in the woods,
I’ll find a way to lure myself back.

The neon signs & streetlights & barstools
are landmarks. A silver 24-ounce can
is a North Star anywhere.

The stumble happens late night
along the Milky Way. If the moss
is growing purple, go toward it.

Maybe I’ll never get out alive. The wind
is holding its breath with every gun
shot & explosion.

The North Star booms into itself,
all that’s left is avenues lined

with insomniacs like me.