Five Poems
Joshua Zelesnick
the crowd stands to honor fallen heroes
brought to you by RAYTHEON, guiding
missiles to the heart since 1948
you hear that thump, you know you’re alive
the crowd stands to honor fallen heroes
brought to you by RAYTHEON, guiding
missiles to the heart since 1948
you hear that thump, you know you’re alive
There is no beautiful way to tell you I’m depressed. Faced with so many compounding
horrors, my body sets to slow fade, a phantom. I’ve been losing my days running headlong
When your world is ruled by another,
you are forced to perform, to spit,
to jump,
to be cruel when all you want is to be beautiful.
It’s a chore parsing whispers, so tiring to listen.
To abandon my ghasts on sea air would be harm;
ceding ash to dry wind, gunpowder to lightning.
It’s been miles since
and still, little pink,
you shed amber
glow in my palm,
gurgle-chirp
in your cradle
of nebulous honey.
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