Dictionary of Saints

Jakob, the zebra in my glass menagerie,

and Nicole, the sheer pillar of smoky quartz,

Mary, the braid of sweetgrass and its ashes,

and Gabriel, the hunting knife with its handle of stone,

Elena, the sugar-fleeced rim of a candyfloss machine

(lilac from layers of pink and hot blue blending),

and Lyn, the heptagon-plated turtle,

Cecil, the whiskey stones asleep in the freezer,

and Marguerite, the queasily foaming spearmint soap,

the apartments at 589 Merritt, hardened marshmallow,

and the lake below, liquid Labradorite,

Ray, the dragon-girt bone china bowl of salt,

and Ryan, the Saturday oysters that taste like France

Kayla Krut is a writer from San Diego, California. She has had poems nominated for a Pushcart and in 2016 received an Academy of American Poets Award. She is currently working toward her PhD in Literature at UC Santa Cruz. Read more or reach out at www.kaylakrut.wordpress.com.