1. Rock Zen #6
“I picked myself out of a hole so many times/
I can’t remember what it feels like on the other side. ”
—Sasquatch
We all exist on multiple
planes. The valleys, climbs,
peaks, struggles are all
distractions like fleas
face on the back of a dog.
2. Rock Zen #7
“I must confess/I’m addicted to this/
Shove your kiss straight through my chest”
—In This Moment
Be wary of anything entering
your heart. It can only be
removed the way it came
in. An exit by any other
path will take pieces with it.
3. Rock Zen #8
“I’d blame someone but I’ve got you/
Like every day that bores me.”
—Helmet
The day yawns open like a cave.
Follow your light into
its deepest holes. You never know
what beasts you’ll find
painted on the walls there.
4. Rock Zen #9
“Your judgments sign your own punishment.”
—Jinjer
If you pass The Conjuring scrolling
through channels after midnight,
the choice is not whether you should
watch a little bit. It’s whether
you should sleep at all.
5. Rock Zen #10
“The page wants to stay white/
Fixed, Lost/Fixed, Lost”
—Jawbox
This life is not a camping trip
where your goal should be
to leave without a trace.
Mark the page, even if
you must use blood.
Jack B. Bedell is Professor of English and Coordinator of Creative Writing at Southeastern Louisiana University where he also edits Louisiana Literature and directs the Louisiana Literature Press. Jack’s work has appeared in Southern Review, Birmingham Poetry Review, Pidgeonholes, The Shore, Cotton Xenomorph, Okay Donkey, EcoTheo, The Hopper, Terrain, Kissing Dynamite, and other journals. His latest collection is No Brother, This Storm (Mercer University Press, 2018). He served as Louisiana Poet Laureate 2017-2019.