[ToC]

 

2 POEMS

Christopher Citro & Dustin Nightingale

 

 

AND ME WITH ONLY A BOTTLE OPENER IN MY POCKET

Since I was a little boy, I wanted to be the alcoholic in Fried Green Tomatoes. A movie I've seen over and over again is an old woman alone in her kitchen, the windows open, and starlings come to settle on the emerald bottles. There are eighteen crows circling above my eyelids. They are fighting over a piece of meat. My dogs won't stop worrying with their shallow bellies. Every animal is doing what they're supposed to automatically. Some people pick the wrong heroes and they're great at this. They're like watching an athlete or a trained bear with a cage on its face prance around until it double knows it is trapped. People like to watch. And after, when it's time for dreams, they'll line up to pass and remark, How childlike he looks sleeping there. Behind my eyes, the lions let loose into the arena.

 

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STARING OUT A WINDOW, ECHOING THE ACTUAL MOON

You made a hole in yourself and now you can see things clearly. The eye doctor is confused when you say it all looks the same. He wants to go home, like the rest of us, drink and forget he has to get up in the morning to do the same thing. You should see a tear duct specialist, weeping at a picnic because it's all so perfect. The onion Kaiser rolls are not perfect. Not enough to cry over. There is this missing comma in a book you read and you can't remember which book, though it made you feel superior. Or it wasn't a book, but something someone said to you recently. Not a comma at all, not a bear or a fish but a pause enough to think what could have flown to the stratosphere and then fallen back. Your mouth a fleshy O, a pit, for what might make it in. The moon you never see anymore. I mean, why would you even look?

 

        


 

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"I don't think I've got a cent on me," Darryl said, patting his pockets. He felt something in his watchpocket. "I don't know what that could be," he said. He peeked into it; inside was a little finger.

"Here, take this," he said.

—Bill Knott & James Tate, Lucky Darryl