Poem by Heath Brougher

 

Professional Suffering

You are not in the limedust, thankfully,
as the scrubbings of wind and a sniper from a land made of cake
await you and your family like a shadow shattered by a British-Brooklyn accent—

he is a recon man for the army of belly dancers—

belly dancers with machineguns and sniper rifles;
more than just the thieves of my lunch money—

this strange-tongued person picked just for you, to place that
bullet where your lucky arachnoid braincyst won’t block it
like the girl at that Texas theater shooting who was shot in the head
and lived because the bullet hit a cyst on her brain she never even knew was there;

this is dreamscape of the subconscious and skull
and throat and ional lions and invisible raindroppings
and dogs made of moths and the birds of Philadelphia—

look longwise into the far future
you’ve been given a chance to attend
after Death tried so hard to envelop you in that rusty hospital.

 

“Scraps” © Fabio Sassi

 

Heath Brougher attended Temple University as well as two years of Penn State University. He has just finished his first chapbook and has two more on the way as well as a full-length book of poetry. He has work published or forthcoming in Diverse Voices Quarterly, Icebox Journal, Mobius, Main Street Rag, and elsewhere.

Fabio Sassi makes photos and acrylics using tiny objects and what is considered to have no worth by the mainstream. Fabio lives and works in Bologna, Italy.

 

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