I’ve drawn curtains over the moon, hatched over stars, fanned out your antlers. You look like a coat rack. Maybe I should have drawn an octopus. So I’m drawing an octopus. Oy, my octopus looks like a parachute. Let’s call it a jellyfish. The barbed stingers on its tentacles are poisonous. I’m adding a second jellyfish to double the dosage. I see lightning between the four of us. It’s what I was going for. This is our play, my reindeer. I’ll join you onstage. We’ll tangle their tentacles. We’ll sway under their chutes and soothe each other’s welts this time.
Kenton K. Yee’s poems appear (or will soon) in Plume Poetry, Threepenny Review, TAB Journal, I-70 Review, BoomerLitMag, Hawaii Pacific Review, Terrain.org, Valparaiso Poetry Review, Mantis, Ignatian Literary Magazine, Berkeley Poetry Review, and Rattle, among others. A graduate of St. Ignatius College Preparatory and St. Mary’s in San Francisco, he writes from the San Francisco Bay Area.
Broken Hearts Broken Faces
Edward Michael Supranowicz is the grandson of Irish and Russian/Ukrainian immigrants. He grew up on a small farm in Appalachia. He has a grad background in painting and printmaking. Some of his artwork has recently or will soon appear in Fish Food, Streetlight, Another Chicago Magazine, The Door Is A Jar, The Phoenix, and The Harvard Advocate. Edward is also a published poet who has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize multiple times.