Thursday, August 19, 2010

Not Much Today by Zach Fishel


The room is silent.
My lungs are not,
they are rasping with the rattling of deer antlers during rut,
mixed with the swish swash oh my gosh of too many cigarettes I never smoked.
Bob Dylan is sorrowfully plucking away in the corner, and I pull the harmonica out
and bend notes like arrows across the hallway and into the bathroom,
where the toilet paper has run out again.
The things that traumatize a man without hope.

I'm just kidding,
because the sun was peeking through the window to see if I was safe.
I just told a lie to make sure he would keep checking.

Zach Fishel is currently living in Pittsburgh where he spends his free time writing and reading. In between the two he wants to attend Graduate School for a Masters in English concentrating on Kerouac and the Beat Generation. He thinks he would be good at this because he knows the difference between surviving and living for a living. He has work at Four Paper Letters and Curly Red Stories and one day he hopes to run his own small press for writers with more heart than earthworms. (they have five hearts)

Photograph by Adam Lawrence.
Street artist unknown.

Kyle Field is the man behind the folk tunes of Little Wings.

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