Poem by Michael T. Smith



The social body has a broken bone
and its two-year old gibberish
is stuck between my teeth,
like how we’re stuck in a moral hollow.
Motors work like fatherless cycles
(or perhaps it’s vice versa),
churning along like a mangy dog
drooling up to a bone —
lo and behold! Guess which one?
And now we realize the mask we wear
is less than nothing but
a mass-produced family portrait.


Michael T. Smith is an Assistant Professor of the Polytechnic Institute at Purdue University, where he received his PhD in English. He teaches cross-disciplinary courses that blend humanities with other areas. He has published over 50 poems in over 20 different journals (mostly within the past year). He also has critical work recently published in Symbolism and Cinematic. He loves to travel.

DL Polonsky is a Boston area artist, writer, and filmmaker. His caricatures have appeared in The Boston Herald and His written work includes the children’s book The Letter Bandits from T.B.W. Books.


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