Hello! We’re hoping you all had a wonderful long weekend out in the sun! Here’s a nice, short poem chosen by our managing editor Allie (the awesomely long title has inspired a title for one of her poems, which is appearing in the Boston Accent later this summer, but that’s not important today. What we care about is this rad poem from Issue 21!). Fun fact: this poem is the opening piece in Issue 21.
Colin James, the author of this featured poem, was born in England but lives in Massachusetts. He has two Jack Russells named Marcello and Guido (fun fact, these are also names of the main characters in two of Fellini’s movies). He has poems forthcoming in Centacle and more.
AN OLD FRIEND FOUND WANDERING INCOGNIZANT
NEAR THE DRAKE-MARS EXPERIMENT
I wasn’t thinking of penises or ballerinas
as I helped you to your car.
The back seat was full of rubbish
and you smelled like burning hair.
The crumbling chain-link fence
was not hard to see beyond,
so I drove you home through
and past deliberating loiterers.
You thanked them all personally with
all the adjectives you could still find.