Above me, wing soundwaves visible, a flapping
back to easier days, a communal grass I could
not know I was missing, but did. Voices in my head
clamor for them, always, from windows in the bathroom,
the glowing lights’ buzz, this temporary body, not simply
the hands washed, nor the heart, the mouth, the tongue,
each breath, each thrill, each paper airplane landing on
its own brown rectangle of nothing.
(originally published in Unlikely Stories Mark V, Winter 2023)
after inflatables
and Friday night I went to the House
after making fun of King
Kong with the brothers
Dance Marathon we first talked
then went to Pizza King with Dabs
accepted oxygen in my water as trees
dead napkins we returned to Constitution
played sober via HORSE
with bottle and recycle bin
earlier I helped Gary with the Poker Mixer
it was either the cheesy bread
or Gatorade that got me
we went to Walgreen’s for beef jerky
along the way we stopped at Sara’s for Orloff
at Fisher’s for refried beans
(originally published in Literary Forest, Fall 2022)
a crow
glances edge of
frame
the moment before
the boomerang
reverses
(originally published in Beatnik Cowboy, Winter 2021)
Thunder
was the memory–
booming in bloom
I take
without giving
you petals.
With mist lifting
off Lake Dardanelle,
I ask
what it means
to be new–
so young was the fog
the mind’s cleaver sliced.
(originally published in The Quiet Letter, Summer 2017)