I’m a little confused.

We were crowbar sweethearts—

remember the lengths we’d go for pomegranates?

I’m reliving it now, in fact,


watching a poor starling on the porch kill itself with a red potato,

swallowing every eager peck.


Maybe I’m just waking up,

which means I never lost

my tambourine’s strap in ankle-deep litter,

& we can forget about the delirium in the mirror.


NPS via Public Domain

About the author

Stephen Wells Brand is a poet, teacher, & dad residing in Boston, MA. He holds an MFA in Writing from University of New Hampshire, and his poems have appeared or are forthcoming at Outlook Springs, Maudlin House, Anthropoid, & elsewhere.

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