Love Poem by Jack Underwood
The streets look like they want to be frying eggs
on themselves. I’m thinking of you and going
itchy from it. I keep expecting to see a nosebleed
on the hot, yellow pavement. Every thought is
a horse fly. When you’re not here I concentrate
on getting somewhere safely; and when I get to
somewhere safe I gnaw the day until you’re home. Art by Agnes Cecile Recommended Listening:Arctic Monkeys cover Tame Impala 'Feels Like We Only Go Backwards' Links of the Day: To Detroit The Mispronounced Item Clown Dating The Reasons You Can't Stop Binge Watching