Sunday, May 30, 2021
homesick by Brian J. Alvarado
hitched a belated carpool,
escaping the city yet again,
this time to suck down some fireballs
and drawl my carelessly wistful way
through a forgettable homecoming,
no longer concerned with losing you
in the foam again, for I missed the
hodgepodge awful in complete, still
waking up inevitably in your bed,
ahead of my only friends left
to graduate from Xanzibar,
burping up synthetic cinnamon
and smog from a voided core,
registering an unholy jolt behind
the wrong ear, as it rubbed up
against an imperfect circle on a
bargain zebra-striped bandana,
and recalling nothing but where
that straggling cowboy killer had
overstayed its earnest welcome, a
premonition of a homesick mourn.
Brian J. Alvarado is a Puerto-Haitian Bronxite with pieces published or forthcoming in Squawk Back, Trouvaille, Alien Buddha, Beliveau Review, Cajun Mutt, and The Quiver Review, among others. He holds a B.A. in Creative Writing from Susquehanna University.
To Justin Frahm, thanks for the first and the eleventh, and to my wife Laura Adkins for the tenth . 1.Keep your eyes on the ground. You’ll a...
Outdoorsman standing beside a mountain stream cracks open a can of BUSCHHHHH . . . Catchy marketing campaign, an attempt to revitalize th...
For some peculiar reason (no one knows for sure), we were all seven+ years apart, my two older brothers and I. I was never meant to be, bu...
“You really love to have all your holes plugged?” she asked. And she was dead right in regards to my head in my sleep. Ear plugs, a sleep...