dreams of my father
plug n play
Gregory Hom makes cut-and-paste collage works. His work has appeared in the Shanghai Literary Review and Catamaran Literary Reader. Hom makes a living as a librarian, and is rooted in the San Francisco Bay Area. Find more of his work at https://theoretical-mutant-4734.tumblr.com/
Thursday, 12:20 p.m.
Tug is listening to music at his desk.
“What’s that instrument that sounds
like a washing machine?” asks Claire.
Tug says “That’s what we in the industry
call a ‘drum,’ Claire.”
A single eyelash falls from my face,
into my yogurt cup.
A redbird taps its head against the window.
Saturday, 2:22 p.m.
I’m deep in the forest right now.
I have no time to listen
to grown men argue
whether Bib Fortuna
survived Jedi or not.
I want the forest in this poem
to function like the forest
in Shakespeare comedies:
A place of working things out,
unencumbered by social constraints.
But I may have learned that wrong.
Thursday, 3:25 p.m.
No one talks about Jane’s Addiction anymore.
Their admixture of heart and decadence.
They seemed so important at the time.
I wish a machine would take me back.
Spring is here with its dampness
and smell of shit.
A guy balancing on a skateboard
with an armful of flowers.
Justin Lacour lives in New Orleans and edits Trampoline: A Journal of Poetry. He is the author of the chapbook My Heart is Shaped Like a Bed: 46 Sonnets (Fjords 2022).
Larena Nellies-Ortiz is a photographer, educator and poet living in Los Angeles. Her photos have been featured in Barren Magazine and her poetry in the Eunoia Review. With an academic background in Migration Studies, Larena is passionate about visual storytelling at the intersection of belonging, displacement, and cultural capital. You can find her on Instagram @lalifish and @lalifishwrites and her photography at www.larenaortiz.com.