Cassandra de Alba


A Barbie Dream House But All the Dolls Are Kitchen Knives

Candy clouds through the power lines,
the vanishing point of high tension.

There’s something soft in me—
we killed it and it’s rotting.

Off the highway like another deer.
Off the highway like another girl.

Stick your fingers right in it—
shove them in my mouth again.

I’ll lick it off. I’m a good girl.
Mind those twin glows in the dark

that just learned to stare back. 
New eyes in an old skull.

If you really want to die
I’ll fucking help.



Cassandra de Alba’s work has appeared in Tinderbox, Gabby, smoking glue gun, and Drunken Boat, among other publications. Her chapbook habitats, a collection of a poems about deerwas released in 2016 by Horse Less Press. A Tent Fellow for Creative Writing and Pink Door Fellow, she reads for pizza pi press and lives in Massachusetts.