Lloyd Wallace is an MFA student at George Mason and an editorial coordinator for Poetry Daily. His writing has appeared or is forthcoming in The Adroit Journal, FENCE, Poetry Northwest, and elsewhere. You can find him on Twitter @jockeycornsilk.

breach

​

the sun presses        its snout against the window

it licks away        the posthumous moonlight

another day another        carousel of losses

another stone atop the scree        i guess

i’ll take a bath        or something        i’m just trying

not to die        by my own hand        it’s kind

of working        i kind of like texting my friends

stuff like the body        is a novel

and the soul’s the acknowledgments page        okay

i kind of like watching the stars        float like papayas

on black water        i kind of like committing crime

but still it hurts        the work of living

i hate my stupid argyle heart        my little

sweater vest of sorrow        the world’s a burlington

coat factory        and i am shoplifting

it’s fun i mean        yee-haw okay        it’s 6am       

i haven’t slept        the adderall’s still galloping

through the fields beneath my scalp        these words

are rising steaming from my belly like        a clot of rotten suns

​

​

​

​