A window that catches good light in the morning and
Streetlight at night
But you can never tell where the moon is through it
A sack of dust that turns everything it touches green
And turns your face dark
But makes your head silver inside and out
A two way mirror for a headboard
For doctors with quiet clipboard hands and
Eyes that go around your head like angry bees on a hot day (memory)
That stay so cool on your skin you can barely get them warm without someone there beside you
My bed’s always made when I get home
And when you cover up the mirror with a freezing blanket, those windows could open two shining heads on any street that lights.
Charlie Bohem is a junior at Vassar College in Poughkeepsie NY. He writes poems and short stories, especially when he actually has work due. When he can, he hangs out with a stray cat named Sanchez. His favorite food is those pickled sausages you can buy in individual packs at gas stations, and his other hobbies include organic synthesis, card counting, woodworking, and gardening.
Thank you again! I’m a big fan of this publication and this means a great deal to me.