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What We Did in The Meantime
by Brian Clifton

We rolled it in newspaper and watched it levitate
 
in the street. The rain turned
every streetlight into a tiny fire.
 
It is so sad, he said. Really, so sad. And turned himself over
 
 
*
 
to face the wall. Months had passed
                                    since the diagnosis,
and like a chainsaw to the lower thigh
 
 
*
 
some things were over as soon as they began.
Sometimes, I clattered through the apartment
 
as if I were already a ghost. Sometimes I whispered,
 
I have such cold hands, again and again into my widened sleeves.
 
                                    The clock wore a smile I could call
apathetic. I was prone, waiting for the world to turn
 
 
*
 
itself off. I could tell you I was dissatisfied, but that would be a lie.
 
Along the main drag, the streetlights unspooled
like two thin ribbons. I stood in the center.
 
                                    ​When the wind picked up, I levitated.

​Brian Clifton co-edits Bear Review. He is a PhD. candidate at the University of North Texas. His work can be found in: Pleiades, Guernica, Cincinnati Review, Salt Hill, Prairie Schooner, The Journal, Beloit Poetry Journal, and other magazines. He is an avid record collector and curator of curiosities.
​Read more...
December 2017
ISSN 2157-8079
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