Henry Finch
Two for the Road
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If I were you, I would be
lined with barbed wire, tumbling onto the floor. The end. Pencils down. Throw the kitten off of the bridge. Don’t take that road. I need it. I’m guessing the wine is gone. Beware the Cyclops and his sleeping medication. You can’t fly. Not yet, at least. You’re crazy for wanting to fit that mattress up the stairs. She was seeing somebody else. It wasn’t just the angel changing down in your bedroom window that moved away. Now it’s broken, but that’s OK. The power was shut off in the middle of the dance party anyway, so everyone staggered home to mold in their basements. |
Phase Music
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and it just feels great to miss someone again
and it just feels great to miss someone and adjust feels great to miss someone and adjust feels great and adjust feels great to miss great to miss to grate too too great an attitude to grate ingrates and grate two etudes to miss to tomb to miss me too to miss me miss missile missed someone is someone and someone is with someone to summon one I’m one again on one again on again and get on and get someone get on and get it and get it and get it someone get on someone again and it’s someone again it’s just again adjust and get in adjust feels grey I just feed the grey eels and it just ends it adjusts just end it did ya end it did ya dit dah dit dah dit dit dit dit dah did ya adjust and adjust it just adjusts and ya feel it again and again and again |
HENRY FINCH was born in 1984 in Rocky Mount, North Carolina. His poetry appears in Prelude, Sugar House Review, The North American Review, The Massachusetts Review, The Seattle Review, jubilat, and many others. He is currently editing a translation of Urmuz's Strange Pages (Pagini bizare).
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