Logan February is a happy-ish Nigerian owl who likes pizza & typewriters & memes. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Vagabond City, Kalahari Review, Wildness, and more. His book, Yellow Soul (April Gloaming Publishing), & a currently untitled chapbook (Indolent Books) are forthcoming in 2017.

Logan February

The Bodies Of Dead Boys

my boyfriend is a mortician the kind that sits next to crows enjoying the odor of departure the coming and the going I am unfamiliar but he claims to know me I sell my body to him for information tell me what you know of me am I truly a river or is that a hallucination too is it normal to talk to shovels and ask them to be gentle I'm sorry how did we meet again something about bicycles wasn't it about going round about brakes he claims I am not an ending I try to prove myself a group of crows is a murder a group of shovels is a pile a pile of bodies is the pilgrimage where scorpio hands teach me to open my bones and reveal insects and marrow I strip myself he thinks it is about sex and preservation I call myself a half-dead thing this romance my embalmment he claims to be able to make me trickle I tell him I love him in a wounded way

This poem is an examination of what it is to be the mentally ill partner in a relationship; the unspoken frustration that blooms when a partner is thoroughly convinced of their ability to heal a mind that has already collapsed inward.

Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published monthly by Glass Poetry Press.
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