Grace Ure

Grace Ure
3 Poems


River Rhythm

the bubbles surging
between boat and water

the heat of muscle broken down
mellow self-poultice of sweat

the air sucked raw through rhythmic
lungs like Secretariat

the high of your own blood singing
corded exultation

the flight of glass
transcending effort into whiskey

the liquid balance
holding tipping points at bay

let it run



Watching Rain Through A Cage

like driving with a short in your ABS
you know you’ll need them one day
but untamed whatifs run
until you’re on the side of the road
engine murdered by the AC
with flecks and corners of shrapnel unseen

against your carotid like a stitch in your side
motions tense
meaty palm heavy as your eyes
shift the jagged faceplate missing
to find another gear
turn it up a notch

even though we know we’ll be deaf one day
because we need the stars
in the backs of our eyes
hurt like Johnny Cash
finding escape velocity

absorb the pressure
let it rain


The White Claw Debacle

5% of 16 ounces is still half a shot
enough to hit
and the shrapnel comes loose
a ricochet inside my skull I can’t stop
except with intravenous dubstep
dripping the drop from ear to jugular
but missing the heart

mild poison the threat of romance
melodramatic fool courting oblivion
got sunscreen in her eyes
but no one believes she’s not crying

ribcage rigid with adrenaline-laced abs
lioness corseted in woman-bone
ices her costal cartilages at home
powerful and capable written on the outside
cavities of vulnerability dying to be known
crushed to silence like candy pumpkins


Grace Ure coaches club rowing, teaches Written Communication for the Workplace at Kansas State University, and serves as blogger and receptionist at Gaia SalonSpa in downtown Manhattan, KS. She lives with her husband and two cats. Originally from Albuquerque, NM, she has degrees from both Kansas State and Oxford and lives by the mantra “life is not linear.” River City Poetry published her debut in Spring 2018.