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"Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard." Anne Sexton 

Heather Brager is a critically acclaimed juggler of calamity, an accomplished procrastinator, and shuffler of idioms. Her poetry and drawings can be found in various digital and print journals around the globe, and on the web.  She currently resides in New England and prefers the precipice of where the Atlantic meets the sand to the official looking office where she spends most of her time. 

Monday, July 29, 2013


we all use bandaids
she sure was a pretty thing
pass me the vodka

Friday, July 26, 2013

Thursday, July 25, 2013

maybe I was.

I thought I'd know your voice
a quality for the radio
back when you fucked girls
you didn’t know in their
dirty upstairs apartments
a few hours before dawn
I wanted to be those girls 
but you know I will never be

do you remember me telling you
we are the sum of all parts
every choice is our brand
the broken glass on my rug
your hands on my ass
or pulling my hair
your car parked down the street
just waiting for me to leave

I often recall your profile
as you quickly turned
a short intake of breath
your eyes were just mine
I thought I could curl up
inside of your chest
as we stood in my kitchen
waiting for the stew to boil

© 7.25.13 heather brager 

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

lie to me.

click to listen to lie to me, read by heather brager.

how many deceptions 
have I quietly

I have become
the swallower of bitter pills
learning to choke
down a quandary
of murky
I wash them down
with vodka and gin

and in the end
love is just truth
and nothing more

if only you really knew
how sweet 
purity tastes

© 7.24.13 heather brager 

Published Red Fez 12/13/2013 - click to read 

Tuesday, July 23, 2013



if we lie
in this chrysalis
a quiet shroud

the memories
we sifted from
the wreckage

an abstract painting
a solitary man
lost beside 
a red and
spiraling path

a single cellist
maybe, one note
a forgotten

 © 7.23.13 heather brager

Monday, July 22, 2013

our words.

you are hands and eyes
Picasso in the bedroom
I am Van Gogh’s ear

© 7.22.13 heather brager

Thursday, July 18, 2013


you were so tender
and beautiful
when we met

empty and waiting

in the middle of the room
the dusty light bulb
and a moth

now we are
broken metaphors
still waiting for you

© 7.18.13 heather brager

Wednesday, July 17, 2013


she is made of nails
and will hold your head gently
longing for the moon

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

throwing it away.

I try not to look
at the photograph
the truck we found in the field
12 miles outside of Livingston
later we discussed giving credit
where credit was due
but you never could open your fist
to hand it to me

we saved that bottle
2700 miles across the country
desperation and loose ends
trailing us in the wind
I was hoping for more than
just to survive
a seedy hotel in Ohio
acrid coffee on the interstate
your broken hand

© 7.16.13 heather brager  

Monday, July 15, 2013

two sides, same coin.

sometimes I am the other side
cold and rigid, familiar
between your fingertips
in your pocket
under your thumb
a clear picture on one side,
turned over on its back

© 7.15.13 heather brager  

Friday, July 12, 2013

the trap.

your eyes confiscate
and I am dissuaded
in my mind, I am escaping to flee
where there is only truth

we do not exist, yet we are pieces of a puzzle

I am and you are
a cancer in our cells
a crow to a window
a wasp to the windshield
as I imagine and draw
the route back to you

I am the wasp, trapped
beneath your rocks glass 
losing oxygen and 
drowning in the pool

© 7.12.13 heather brager