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Poetry || SubmissionsJeffrey James KeyesFire 2: AmericaHe strikes the matchquickly as to not burn his finger on a hand with 7 or 8 almost vanished scars, 3 current cuts, chapped webbing, and dirty nails. Half of the time, when he looks in the mirror he sees this magical prince who rode on a white stallion across the bridge, the other half of the time he sees someone darker, worn, hollow, baggy eyes, yellow teeth, pimply skin tired from the world. Today is somewhere in-between. Sailboats catch the wind on the lake nearby, some children played in the grass outside he thinks about simple things: yo yos, bubble wrap, scotch tape, Kool Aide, and then America: McDonalds, Best Buy, MTV, George Washington, Tonya Harding and then simple things: swizzle sticks, licorice, hula hoops, plastic dogs with bouncing heads and festive sprinkles on mint chocolate chip ice cream (low fat low carb non-dairy something or another) His lips curl and begin to form a smile, some cheesy grin meanwhile a child in Dubuque, Iowa throws a paper airplane the wind catches it, it soars across the hedge and into the alley where an inch worm ignores its existence and continues following a crack into a bustle of leaves the grin remains he thinks about the American flag perfect white stars on a blue background filling his mind like the ocean the wind catching its fabric and rippling it like a towering white spinnaker sail on a 83 foot wooden schooner YACHT schooner YACHT Jibes on a lazy Sunday afternoon. He tastes cold refreshing mandarin orange spice Iced sun tea, the one he enjoyed yesterday, savoring it for one final moment, looking down... the match had gone out, he strikes again, the sulfur ignites and a simple flame sparks and greets him while the wind still blows outside and the inch worm still crawls and we're all still here we're all still here we're all still real Agave Nightmare 3:30AM from Bryant to Delancey St.I wake in the nightimmersed in a green haze this chalky taste disturbs me I smell honey agave honey agave honey in the air distrusting my senses I recline back in fetal but my eyelids disobey fluttering and thunder beckons me sit up and scratch my shaven head to look up and there is a woman floating on my ceiling a mermaid swimming above me green light shooting from behind her and she winks and blows me a kiss then motions for me to come closer- I become at once flustered and nervous shaking my head I smell molasses and look below a river of molasses has dominated my room the green haze turns turquoise the moment of revelation the mermaid leans her head back and cackles like a satisfied witch, revealing her bosom as if to distract me my disinterest enrages here but she cannot disillusion me my eyes float back and look even deeper into the molasses I'm on the edge of my bed desiring a spoon, a fork a spork some oatmeal then it happened--- she opens a portal her scream like a Greek siren trapped on an island, barren, I cover my ears, my eyes, my nose her scream louder than my father's piercing sneeze a portal swinging open all around her an army of 2 thousand hummingbirds soaring out, dark like dried lava filling my room plunging to their doom submerging deep into the molasses I scream I cry I bury my head into a pile of wailing hummingbirds covered in feathers, bleeding from sharp beaks it's up to my window its filling my room the mermaid enraged rips all of my maps my posters my paintings my bookcase the ceiling fan and soon I too am submerged into molasses her devilish plasma I feel her touch me my foot my naval my inner thigh she rapes me her hair covered in goo like fondue caked together like glue my heart stops beating my erection stays strong her insides working my outsides with the precision of an Olympian gold medalist I cum She screams mitosis meiosis the clock falls off the wall and my cellular alarm goes off- I throw my cellular phone in a bucket of water -tiny bubbles float up to the top of the pail and dissolve into the hazy green air my eyes flutter confusion my nasal passages detect something sweet and sticky honey agave honey agave and I know I'm finally there. Violet nightlast nightas i slept and tossed and turned a cactus grew in my living room it grew and grew and grew and grew and stretched it's broad arms down down my hallways and under my bed and lifted me far up into the air past trump and yoko and fred astaire it's thistles and flowers bloomed instantaneously, it continued to grow i went past saturn and continued to flow the cactus took me north of x and swooped by z through herds of saucers, past seas of aquamarine i met shuttles and little green men, frosty creatures and dinosaur friends purple lobsters and incan refugees at high noon when i finally landed at home my bathtub was filled with agave, i dunked my bod in continuing to sink, (damn agave quicksand had eaten the floor) it took me to the sea where i remain coated in agave surfacing in a cavern of seahorses, porpises, and whales while the monstrous cactus takes over the city. Jeffrey James is a writer/actor who lives in New York City and hails from Milwaukee. He is an active member of Wet Lab, a feisty group of actor-director-writers who rose out of the bowels of the Ensemble Studio Theater in Hells Kitchen. Recent writing projects include JOSH GROBAN FANCLUB and JEREMY, THE STORY OF A PREGNANT MAN. He has recently performed with Theatre Askew and Moonwork - and walked on the runway modelling clothes from Sensitive's fall collection. Today's Situation
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