The stars don’t mourn. The stars aren’t flesh and blood.
They are glass and light in the shattering sky.
Night spills, shattered bottle, scattering darkness,
hue of every moment mixed together.
Petrichor, moldering leaves, jasmine mingle
with the terror of a skunk meeting an owl.
Two owls watched me pass at three a.m. No fear
as they perched, grey angels on adjacent poles,
the City of Angels flashing gold, distant
and close as those night birds. All lent a presence—
a specter of light and the softness of down
as if caught in a Mason jar, lid screwed down tight,
gold light shimmering inside, glass cool to palm—
rejoicing like stars while two strigiforms watch.
is a Los Angeles-based writer and photographer with an MFA from California State
University, Long Beach. His work has appeared in San Pedro Poetry Review,
Synkroniciti, West Texas Literary Review, Gleam: Journal of the Cadralor,
MacQueen’s Quinterly, and other publications. His second poetry chapbook,
Beneath a Glazed Shimmer, won the 2019 Clockwise Chapbook Prize and was
published in February 2021 by Tebor Bach.
Le Grand Matin by Jonathan Yungkans, a Finalist in
MacQ’s Triple-Q Writing Challenge (Issue 11, January 2022)
La Porte by Yungkans in MacQ’s special
Christmas Eve issue (10X, December 2021)
Two Duplex Poems, plus author’s notes on the poems and on
the form, by Yungkans in Issue 10 of MacQ (October 2021)
Lawful and Proper, poem in Rise Up Review (Fall 2020)
Cadralor in the Key of F-Sharp as It Cuts into My Spine, in
the inaugural issue of Gleam (Fall 2020)
I’d Love to Cook Like Hannibal Lecter [video], read
by the poet at an event sponsored by Moon Tide Press (10 October 2019) celebrating
the anthology Dark Ink: A Poetry Anthology Inspired by Horror
⚡ Saving the Patient, poem in The Voices Project
(18 January 2018)