The Pacific begs me to swim away, anything
to keep us from strangling each other
on the boardwalk. The Freakshow
is where our love belongs, a two-headed
oddity feasting on dust and bone
until there is nothing left of us.
You sell watercolors of women's faces
and I write the words nobody wants
to remember. I want you to paint
me. You want me to write about us:
As the sun sets over the ocean
I fade into your torn canvas.
Nobody knows we’re fighting; even seagulls
refuse the scraps of our misery. We become debris,
swirling shreds of paper in the salty wind.
Nathan Elias is the author of A Myriad of Roads that Lead to Here (Scarlet Leaf Publishing House, August 2017). Nathan writes and makes films out of Los Angeles, CA where is currently earning an MFA in Creative Writing from Antioch University. His work has appeared in The Blotter, Red Fez, Eclectica Magazine, Hobart, Literary Orphans, Birdville Magazine, and elsewhere. His film 'The Chest' premiered in Cannes Film Festival 2015.
It continues to snow dust.
The sun comes out of the closet.
Jays enter under the door
jumping over a line of air.
Maybe it was just the light,
cracked somewhere, leaked out,
lucky—I thought you shifted away
in voice, my mouth to hear,
My senses are a cushion, and yet this horror appears to taste my morrow. My alarms are useless because they are on fire with the rest of my home.
Be honest now—
just for a minute; I cried.
I had him locked out—
a perfectly good wish.
Privately, for over a year now you drove off and left me.
The place cooled down beaming and bright—
put my name on a silencer (it’s not the end of the world).
In the mirror, the wooden bust of Christ Nicodemus carved
and Joseph commended to the sea, stares out for reflection.
Only a true spell
of fittingly glamorous phenomena
repaired sunstruck imagination—
Too big for your body, the whale of a bed will go on sale; also the dresser, its
three-linked mirrors tall as sails.
The Nazis are back in town.
No, I know. They never, ever left.