By James Diaz
I put my knee into my throat
puking amber cuz all i know
are words for other things
fox is people and the moon
and river, strongest people
and I bring it up to my mouth
drink it like I don’t know
what it’s made for
this skein pulled long in sorrow
I heat your prayers in my lung
I eat your afternoon
like I am tire and you are road
and paint/pain is strongest
when I can’t remember where
I come from / crawled out of
and you asked me
what gets you through
and I showed you the notches
of my wrists, skin ladders
running up to my heart
all this water for a fire
no one sees burning in you
seasons threw me like lovers
with switch sticks and
I huddled like a copper
thief under the bridge
search lights unfurling my scars
scary mouth nothing is getting in
but everything, everything pouring out
the flood plains dress you in morning
daylight is people-
strongest people
and I am not.
Bio: James Diaz is the author of This Someone I Call Stranger (Indolent Books, 2018). He is founding Editor of the literary arts & music mag Anti-Heroin Chic. His work has appeared most recently in Occulum and Philosophical Idiot. He lives in upstate NY and occasionally tweets @diaz_james
Academy of the Heart And Mind 