By Josh Luckenbach
Featured Art: i.dissociation. paranoia. by Ahneka Campbell
Up all night shuffling from chair
to bed to couch to floor
and only the flustered trilling
of the soul at its own failing,
decades funneling to this:
narrow opening, fissure
in my hope’s remaining rot
which I had thought
to step through
would mean to surrender to
the dull world (and it would,
though not in the way that I’d feared)—
tunnel-visioned and mourning
the loss of meaning,
up all night and no god; I lost
years like this, hope long since gale-tossed.
Meanwhile whatever it was that was
going to happen never did. Now, finally this—
hot coffee on the front stairs
at daybreak, windswept hair—
this auroral calling forth from night’s
void as mundane as it gets.
That’s it. It’s a deal.
I’m clearing my schedule.
Josh Luckenbach’s recent work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Southern Review, Shenandoah, Nimrod, Birmingham Poetry Review, Nashville Review, and elsewhere. He received an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Arkansas, and he currently serves as the managing editor for Iron Horse Literary Review.