By Alex White
cracks and bends have a euphoria
resident in their hardening.
a new high of the logic of improvement
a pleasure like torn muscle
like fever driven nights spent shivering in repose.
my palms pop at the callouses
their dry skin leaks heaven at the seams.
with every stray twitch
the bed creaks and I wake—
I’ve found it’s better not to sleep at all. but run
every dirty dish in the state
wash them in puke-stained porcelain
while caulk basins fill with beer.
I can only look at myself
smile at every passing face
count any downward glance not as rejection.
rise every morning myself.
By Alexander White
Keith had been Christmas shopping for his two kids at the mall all day and was worn thin. The venture had taken its toll, and when he started driving home in his blue minivan he was not in a good mood. The path home took him along a sweeping empty country road.
Looking in his rearview mirror, he saw another middle-aged man driving a minivan down the narrow road accelerate to pass him to his left, and then immediately slow down to take the next right. Keith slammed on the breaks and a few presents in the front seat spilled onto the floor. Words he’d rarely used since college spewed from his mouth and he flipped off the man in the minivan. The man stuck his hand out the sun-roof and proudly displayed his longest finger in response.
Keith gripped the steering wheel ‘till his knuckles turned white and he turned right, boiling with rage, following the man even though it wasn’t the direction he needed to go. The two minivans’ engines strained painfully as both drivers had their feet to the floor. Keith pulled up to the left of the other man’s car and yelled obscenities, glaring in between breaths. The other man did the same and they ate road and rubber together. They were taking up both lanes of the road and approaching dangerous speeds in their twin clunkers.
By Helen Patterson
The Nimrod International Journal of Poetry and Prose is a literary journal based out of TU. Every October, Nimrod hosts a Saturday conference from 10:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. filled with workshops, panel discussions and readings built around a theme.
This year’s conference was October 19 and centered on the theme “Hunger and Thirst: Fulfilling Desire.” TU students could attend for $10.
The debonair, suede clad hipsters of
have colored hair and colored
souls that love me.
Their belligerent brothers
ravers garbed in neon and sweat
shrug with indifference
but show up anyway.
A lonely American
with concierge directions
written on the back of his hand
All stumble in
guzzling five pound pints
decade after decade.
They wait for the purple glow
that hangs about me
to rub off
seep into veins
and teach them to dance like I do—
like the raging Koko blues.