My flash poem Endings is included in the latest issue of Be About It. This is issue #11 of this great zine. It’s my third appearance in the zine. My story Statues of Iowa City appears in issue 4, and my poem “like a..” appears in issue 10. You can get a copy of the new issue here, here.
Updated release list here
My poem “like a” has been published in Be About It issue 10 . It’s the second time I’ve published with these fine people in San Fransisco. I’m lucky to be included with a bunch of other amazing artists, writers, and talents. Pick up a copy for just 3$
Updated release list .
mt pleasant, ia
Machines, threshers, and people,
Mighty historic wings in a flat land for grazing,
More places to get your hair did then population,
more places for competition.
Trucks are bigger than manhood,
Stranger danger pervades the streets,
And yet…
A simple decency exists.
Machines, threshers and people.
Mighty lion paws in an abundance of pizza joints
Less places to get your health did then needed,
Less places for the traveling wanderer,
Cars are one per person.
Cause everyone has to go somewhere with nowhere to go.
And yet…..
Life.
Indiana, Illinois, Iowa
If I could name you over,
If I could build a castle in the vacancy,
If I could find you on main st,
If I could buy a kernel of truth,
if I could store the winter,
If I could sell your views,
If I could consider you home,
If I could name the clouds,
If I could believe in champions,
If I could, i would.
Only covered in a shroud to hide from the past.
Moments are like scars in the winter snow,
black asphalt peeking up towards the melting sun.
Like the lines on your back, tracing towards the lip of tommorow.
Scattered, massive prisons of hope.
Only wearing this shroud to prevent detective work.
What can you tell from just the daggers eyes?
Killing in the casino, killing in the pharmacy,
Lady luck is a water sprite, amused in despair.
Love settles on the eastern wind,
as the sidewalks cracks, once whole becomes broken,
and the old man crumbles, his hands weathered, worn.
Only thing left under the shroud is a dream once promised.
Things often went over my head. It was that way in that small apartment when Kathryn talked about animals while Braid played in the background. A slight curl of her long brown hair moved across her face when she turned to the side. Obscuring vision. “I do, I want to hold you” The New Nathan Detroits. That was the song title.
“Are you even listening?” She asked. I looked up, putting down the latest issue of Heart Attack in my hand. Of course I am. Listening, not really paying attention, but really….. I nod.
“Alright, let’s go out.”
T-shirt, cargo pants, exit into the cold night air. Buzz from a few blocks away, the chatter down on 5th st, pulling at our youth, our wonder. There were days when sleep went unanswered, these fall nights. Humidity made pretty. And lust worn on sleeves, filled with so much longing.
We walked into the frenzy, past reason, with hope for all the days to come.
The Single has been spinning without music for minutes.
It’s whir turned into the recess of our hearing.
Someone should flip the damn record but no one moves for the needle.
Cassie walks by with her new girlfriend, a redhead from the mountains.
I see William cringe at the sight, his heart pulling just a bit.
“Hey want a piece of candy?” I offer to no one in particular.
Andrew accepts, joins me in sugar debauchery.
The clock finishes its last minutes till 9pm.
Lights dim, keys locking behind us, four men going our separate ways.
Routine, until one of us leaves for another job, another city, another life.
And worst of all, we never look back.
Drinking wine, red turns my eyes,
I’m sick of being in rooms filled with your lies.
Particle catches of matter. What Matters?
I’m thrilled over the curls in your hair.
Taste of honey and day old bread.
Said the old man to the youth,
“Where are my glasses?”
And they ran like children to the emergency room.
Talk about anything! People, tell me more of homelands,
Where birds sing in helium voices.
I wish i was higher. Like years spent not sleeping.
delirium, red wine turns colors, my eyes not opening,
on your couch, i’m a better man.
If only i could stay here.
