whiskey sweats at 10am;
it’s Tuesday, and I
really shouldn’t leave today.
the sheen of the gun,
this light beside the candle—
luster never was our game;
we shine beside the shallow grave:
angry light electric ghouls
deprived of all that mattered.
from here inside this cage
I watch the birds play mating games
on branches hung too low for me,
too low for leaves to fall.
yet worms compete for drier land,
on beds of compost waiting,
meeting fates we’ve never bargained for—
this cage, in here, now reeks of smoke.
I light another cigarette,
pull my leather firm;
of any subject burning slowly down the wire.
Joseph Gant is a poet and flash fiction writer/editor. Joseph was born in 1978 in southern New Jersey. There he studied glassblowing, science, and Tibetan Meditation. His book, Zero Division, a 168 page collection of poems, is published by Rebel Satori Press. His work has also appeared widely in the underground press as well as academic journals, and publications such as Mandala Magazine.