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J.A. Staisey – Poetry

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The unheated apartment

By J.A. Staisey

 

 

Crazed with love and loss,
and broke, so broke that winter,
we sold off our belongings.

First the kitchen went:
the knives, spoons, forks.
We even swapped the fridge

for windows lined with milk
and pots of jam. Kept two mugs;
we couldn’t give up coffee.

Next went the stereo and CDs.
Sold the furniture as well,
replacing it with what we found

discarded in the street.
Then things got worse
and the unthinkable occurred:

we had to sell the books.
Starting with the light novels
and cheap beach-reading,

we moved reluctantly on
keeping a careful list,
saying we would renew

in spring. But winter
dove straight back
into winter that year.

 

 

 

Travel

 

Arriving at your house
two hours too late because
I missed the 2:30 train.

Arriving just in time
for the dinner you promised
but hadn’t cooked yet.

Arriving in damp sweat
full of words and desperate
for a drink.


 

 

The fine line between stupidity and genius

 

It’s cracking down the center
you see. Here where the boards
join. A single karate-chop
would split it into two.

But if I had known
it would be that easy
I would have used my head.

 

 

 

BIO

J.A. Staisey lives in Los Angeles. This is their first publication.

 

 

 

 

 

The Writing Disorder is a quarterly literary journal. We publish exceptional new works of fiction, poetry, nonfiction and art. We also feature interviews with writers and artists, as well as reviews.

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