Beyond here, there are dragons,
and men and women who are somehow able to ignore the dragons.
Men and women who live with dragons.
Beyond here, things are dangerous.
But that’s not to say there’s nothing dangerous here.
Because there is.
There are knives at the back of dark drawers, a burner that will never completely turn off.
There is a bookstore across the street from the bar next to the all-night coffee shop.
There are universities and rooftops. Jukeboxes that make or break a night.
There is a woman with red hair, blue eyes and tattoo of a small girl asleep beside a dead tree.
You’ve got friends here. One is epileptic. Most have seen you naked.
Most have seen the blood blisters. Most have seen you shrink.
They’ve seen you grow so small you’re barely a thing any more.
You lift with the breeze. A single hand could not hold you.
Many many hands could not hold you.
They would not settle, but would make motion after motion.
Because you are tiny.
This will come in handy when you meet the dragons,
breathing sulphur, chewing bone, waiting,
or if not waiting, ready.
BY COLIN WINNETTE
Colin Winnette is a writer and performer living in Chicago, IL. He was a finalist for the 1913 First Book award, and has published one novel, REVELATION (Mutable Sound Press 2011), and one collection of short prose, ANIMAL COLLECTION (Spork Press, forthcoming 2012). More information and links to more work can be found at colinwinnette.com.