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Adam Cogbill

these woods are like constellations: / of course that’s not a crab / of course that’s not a belt

Listen to This

Fuck it, these semis are going to move I swear

I know where I’m going

these woods are like constellations:

of course that’s not a crab

of course that’s not a belt

and you can’t tell me that’s a fucking hunter

that’s gas and potting soil up there and

how come everybody calls it space

but nobody believes it everybody

describes the wildest party

they’re giving out moons

they’re throwing asteroids at mailboxes

I’m a mailbox

all these bills belong to other people

I called all the senders

they’ve all cried so much they’ve lost their voices

please change all the light bulbs

you have to slam the door

sleep the windows unless you’re

out of pills believe me

you don’t want to run out of pills.

All Open Squares are Brown

I would rather have the music on

especially when the windows are open.

Go ahead,

be winter from concentrate

until it hurts at this point,

you will want to close the window.

Do not close

anything open everything

tunafish cans storm cellars especially

any surface that covers anyone

making love to anyone or thing else

open walls and shower curtains

floos, joints, eyelids, frames, open

faster and faster, needles, steak knives

should be opened before being stuck

in light sockets, light sockets should be

stuck sideways whenever winter becomes

more than one color, why

is it always more than one color

why is it never any other way

why is it perfect

when it should be unhinged

Adam Cogbill's short stories have been published in or are forthcoming from Ampersand, Slow Trains, Word Riot, and other publications. He has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. He is an MFA student at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. He is currently working on a collection of short stories.