Pete Miller / Poetry 5.2 / Fall, 2017




The blankets
were crumbled
like something happened
in that bed
just prior
to us arriving.

But something
has always just happened.
The all-surrounding
unapparent. The last
fried potatoes just eaten,
hepatitis ghosting
the encampment.
That skeletal janitor’s
just-finished hour of
singing Def Leppard.
The Outreach Team’s
learning what gangstalking means
in regards to human trafficking.
Oil painting of a girl crushed by a wagon.
The sheets, stuck-together cringes.
Without an observer
the ice melts weirder.
Hot liquid floats
forward its scars,
a million small suns.
And the damnable
went and used up
all the shade.
But Luck ran through here
just a minute ago.
Everybody swears it.


Pete Miller’s work has appeared in Bayou Magazine, Slice, Superstition Review, Minus Times, The Moth (Ireland), and 491 Magazine. His chapbook, Born Soap, was published online by H_NGM_N. Miller received an MFA from Arizona State University and currently lives in Omaha, Nebraska. He works as a Community Health Worker at a clinic for the homeless. Miller co-edits the on-line poetry journal A Dozen Nothing.


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