Philosophy
I spoke to you of dirt
and broken thumbnails, of salt
in tears and potholes.
I spoke of popcorn
ceilings with sticky sheets
underneath.
You spoke to me of stars
and aether currents, of birds
on radio airwaves.
You spoke of treetop
houses with telescopes
to the sky.
The Electronic Age
We drove by dark and planet deities
Riding the road chasing down reason
Like some great thing.
We captured the sun in a fiberglass bottle
An electric ambrosia consuming sins
Like gods.
Pact
I think my drinking days are catching up
with me, the old man said and poured
more whiskey in his coffee pot.
The man shook. Under his feet
the cat lapped blood
off the floor.
The old man saw the stars of hell
hanging from the ceiling, sucking
out the color
from his hair.
Another week, another one to spill
into the kitchen sink, another
sacrifice to fight the stars
and pool under the floorboards
for the cat to drink.
Nicole Kurlich is a student from Northeast Ohio. She is currently pursuing an Associate of Arts degree at Lakeland Community College.
