Issue #54


Authors

Chestnut Street Crawl

Content Warning: references to drinking


1.

I come armed with a seam ripper and

The dramas of a Steller’s jay

Peeling paint back from the face of April,

Listening like a toddler while 

White women talk shit over well vodka 

Their smoking secrets

Push my glasses up my nose,

Skin strains against pink inside

Ballooning hot with suburban gossip 


2.

I take refuge in between

A parking garage and a restaurant’s bare behind

Breathing body doubled over seagull shit and 

Stacks of cardboard,

The teeth of spiteful spring threaten snow

I stand shaking in the arms of solo mercy

Until stairwell ghosts shatter my 

Dumpster prayer, send me sprinting back

Into the shriek of a neon road


3. 

Sammy Davis Jr. is pointing at me from

A wall in a bar on a street once haunted

The phone number of my first love hangs

Forgotten around my neck and

Time winks it’s wink from the counter 

I breathe in strangers, they spill out 

Around me like a toppled rice bag,

Like ribbons from a maypole

Spin The Wheel

Forgive and Never Forget