It was a sweltering summer day and

dripping with sweat I

popped over to Taylor Street,

ordered a lemon ice.

 

Waiting in line, my

phone buzzed it’s usual “hi,”

 

opening it

while taking an icy sip,

that’s how I

learned

that you’d died.

 

The sharp taste.

The sour taste.

The aftertaste

of lemon ice.

 

by Stefanie Lyons

Stefanie Lyons received her MFA in Creative Writing from Vermont College of Fine Arts. She is a Chicago advertising copywriter by day, working on her great American novel by night. These poems come from a series of digital loneliness and anti-advertising pieces she’s currently working on. Oh, the irony.

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