Drop Your Coins From The Skyscraper of Love

By MELISSA STUDDARD

And if you have no coins or skyscraper,
then parachute from your mind into blossom,

and if you have no parachute or mind,
then walk three times around a burning fire

and if you have no fire in your foot, invite
the shut-eyed horse to rest on your shoulder.

I have no blossom, no shoulder.
Just the bookshelf where I file myself

between fantasy and theory. If I
come to you late with the moon in my hair,

un-shelf me, pour me a martini made of wind.

Melissa Studdard is the author of two poetry collections, I Ate the Cosmos for Breakfast and Dear Selection Committee. Her work has been featured in outlets such as PBS, NPR, The New York Times, The Guardian, and the Academy of American Poets’ Poem-a-Day series. Her awards include The Penn Review’s Poetry Prize, the Tom Howard Prize from Winning Writers, the Lucille Medwick Memorial Award from the Poetry Society of America, and more.

[Purchase Issue 23 Here.]

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

Drop Your Coins From The Skyscraper of Love

Related Posts

Contrail across blue sky

July 2025 Poetry Feature: New Poems by our Contributors

GEOFFREY BROCK
Sing, O furrow-browed youth, / of the contrails scoring the sky, / bright as lines of cocaine / until, as they age, the eye // loses them to the blue… / Sing of the thin-skinned plane / that made those ephemeral clouds, / and of all that each contains: // the countless faceless strangers

Fenway Park

Before They Traded Devers

AIDAN COOPER
I don’t know I’m not paying attention I’m crunching / peanut shells thinking Murakami began to write novels / because of baseball why don’t I / my dad’s grumpy / I’m vegetarian now & didn’t want a frank & yes it’s probably / a phase he’s probably right but it’s a good phase

Cover of All Is The Telling by Rosa Castellano

An Embodied Sense of Time: Raychelle Heath Interviews Rosa Castellano

ROSA CASTELLANO
I’m holding a blank page all the time for myself. That’s a truth that I choose to believe in: the blank page is a tool for our collective liberation. It can be how we keep going. I love that we can find each other on the page and heal each other, too. So, I invoke that again and again, for myself, because I need it.