atlantic

Graphic by Dallas Thurman/ North by Northwestern

poetry at midnight
is blue not faded denim,
not summer sky,
not stained glass

it’s the ocean past
 it’s cold like 
late january and crane beach in june
it’s numbing and it hurts like
you can feel
all your nerves at once

so…. i hang 
off the edge to feel 
the blood rush to my head
just to feel like 
i’m still real

twist words into pyrite,
foolish dreams into fool’s gold
i...