Except for these mouse turds, which could be cake sprinkles,
this misnomer won’t stand. O salt-of-the-earth drawer I
celebrate you: birthday candles sucked clean of frosting,
shotgun shells, a sneeze of catnip, salt and pepper packets. A
solitary Uno card. Archive of one-offs and two-offs, where
odds pine for ends. Where everything belongs that doesn’t
belong. Jumbled cousin to the strict silverware, the coquettish
dishtowels rolled tight. Seeds of a General Store. Mirror of
my mind on Monday. Picture of my heart when she’s gone.
The friend who knows me better than I know myself.
The place where the nothing I always need
is always found.
lives in Ohio, and has a Masters in poetry/creative writing from Purdue University. His poetry and flash fiction have appeared in Poetry East, Quarter After Eight, The Journal, Juked, Wigleaf, and RHINO. His prose poem “Summer” appeared in The Best Small Fictions 2017 anthology, his short-short story “Elegy” received a 2018 Pushcart Prize, and his flash fiction “Dog as Battlefield” appeared in The Best Small Fictions 2019. He is currently working on a chapbook collection.
