I’m stricken down
by overwhelming


my hands flagging
down my elbows
when I suddenly bent
them at asymmetric angles
and thrust them toward my second rib
to cry out a phlegmy Milwaukee born


I’m stricken up
like that often
you know-

I’ve watched you
you flinch with a smile
three seconds before it comes
knowing all

about the blended
and aimed reverence
laced tolerance
masking irritation
and dismissal I shove

into every
boisterous afternoon
I spend with you


by Steven Minchin

Steven enjoys capturing things he’s seen almost as much as things he has not. To date he has quite a collection of both. He makes Facebook his artistic warehouse and periodically promotes dead people there, elsewhere his work has appeared in Mad Swirl, Heavy Hands Ink, Short, Fast and Deadly, vox poetica, and Crack the Spine.

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