Postcard from the Knife-Thrower
May 29 – Bellingham, WA
I don’t know what’s happening, I’m losing
myself, maybe I’m already gone. Life and
memory are fragile, I’ve been gutted more
than a few times; I don’t want to forget then
stop loving the dead. I’m being taken apart
incrementally, smaller yet so much heavier;
like rivets popping off a tinman. Navigating
my own extinction, there’s no cross to bear,
no saints to string rosaries, nothing in the stars
to solve. I write letters, post them with no return
address, send them adrift, hope they hit a distant
shore. Every sleep is a death, a small yielding
to pain. I’ve become used to gaps and distances,
didn’t realize I’d lost parts of myself until pieces
of me were strewn about being pecked by crows.
The air reeks of kerosene, I’ve got a brand new
set of steel. Take a deep breath, sister. I’m ready
to strike the match.
*
Alex Stolis lives in Minneapolis; he has had poems published in numerous journals. Two full length collections Pop. 1280, and John Berryman Died Here were released by Cyberwit and available on Amazon. His work has previously appeared or is forthcoming in Piker’s Press, Jasper’s Folly Poetry Journal, One Art Poetry, Black Moon Magazine, and Star 82 Review. His chapbook, Postcards from the Knife-Thrower’s Wife is forthcoming from Louisiana Literature Press in 2024. He has been nominated multiple times for the Pushcart Prize.
