Tag Archives: Jeremy Jusek

There I am, nibbling clover, an outcast of my own poem. Each and every opinion is cooked in a microwave. Nothing else explains why whatever I say is so rubbery and uneven. There is uncertainty in circles, the circles walked … Continue reading →

Jake was not a man concerned with legacy. His wishes were to be burned in an open-field pyre. The city council being what they were, the decision was made to burn first and ask questions never. Claudia arrived tear-streaked, draped … Continue reading →

When Jayden and Stacy returned home from visiting a well-traveled street, they found the front door smashed to bits. The charred grass was still smoking in places. Until therapy, neither could again             equate home with safety. Entering cautiously, they stepped … Continue reading →

Jake was recognized by all seven people in his six-inch pumps, red waist-length wig, and glitter wings so wide they gently brushed the shelved potato chips and beef jerky. On his way out, Jake made sure to nod courteously into … Continue reading →

I stored some memories in a bottle when I was nine. I didn’t find it again for twenty years. My hands crack when I run and shake when I slice vegetables. The tomatoes, jealous, demand I cry when I cut … Continue reading →

The car’s cubicle. They are the most self-indulgent strips of yellow I’ve ever seen. In between the last two coats of fresh paint I had seven haircuts. Fescue and clover, battered by tires, wave. The newest coat looks more orange … Continue reading →