The sun rose in his head while his feet were still asleep. Pigeons roosted then flew behind his eyes as nets full of sardines were pulled in off the coast of his toes. Mountains rose and fell with every breath. In the mornings he pulled on the trousers of the day but could not choose between his corn belt and his bible belt. Sometimes, he felt a fracking in his belly and at night he could not quiet the tinnitus of a million cars.
Linda Malnack's poems have appeared in various journals, including Amherst Review, Blackbird, Northwest Review, and Willow Springs. Her chapbook, 21 Boxes, was published by dancing girl press at the end of 2016. Linda co-edits the online poetry journal Switched-on Gutenberg and is also an Assistant Editor for Crab Creek Review.
Don’t let them into your head.
The run of a horse
is a gallop. Roam, rove
with restraint. Run those hounds,
those errands. Run your eye
down the list.
So you’re not the Anadyomene — suck it up!
Too much pudica peek-a-boo