by Nathan Tyree
With his broken wrecking ball teeth
and the sliver of night that razes and rends
and shaving in darkness at the sight
of deaths that wait and wait and weep
for the long, slow instant that cannot
no, that could not, that isn't that wasn't
until the iron bends and the carbon breaks
and the locomotive, off the tracks at last
steams out of the distance and falls
like Icarus into the yellow orange sky
and his tenure is denied
Nathan Tyree is the editor of Trick With A Knife. His fiction and poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in places like No Colony, Gustaf, The Broken Plate, Slingshot, Edifice Wrecked, Corpse Fuck and many others. He has knives. The inverted wheelbarrow is his least favorite sexual position.
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