April 29 Watsonville, CA
I remember feeling a cigarette burning
a hole in my arm after too many beers
or not enough whiskey.
Tried to shut down Magdalena, called her God’s
own orphan and swore to keep her secrets.
I blame my failure on the sky, there’s so much of it;
too much to swallow. Too many ways to escape
but no way to stay, and I can’t run fast enough
to even earn a quiet look at heaven.
I can almost hear the crow of a rooster, the slow
cock of a gun. There is no love without breaking,
the trick is to break together.
Alex Stolis lives in Minneapolis; he has had poems published in numerous journals. Two full length collections Pop. 1280, and John Berryman Died Here were released by Cyberwit and available on Amazon. His work has previously appeared or is forthcoming in Piker’s Press, Ekphrastic Review, One Art Poetry, Black Moon Magazine, and Star 82 Review. His chapbook, Postcards from the Knife-Thrower’s Wife, was released by Louisiana Literature Press in 2024, RIP Winston Smith from Alien Buddha Press 2024, and The Hum of Geometry; The Music of Spheres, 2024 by Bottlecap Press.
