by steven lonis-shumate

rebuild my antique chest
with gourmet speed heading west
laminate tradition and
eat my drop-off heart
that will for sure ice over
in cold weather

alice, what were you dreaming about?
when you put your soul for sale
while passing the factory liquidating
in the near future
maybe next week even
it served for storage 
for rusted and pitted history
crying
flashing memory
and impulse heartbeats 
fall down, lament, miss me dammit, i beg
im sick of begging
i quit like you did
lovers block block the sun
and i’m so fucking cold

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About the Author:

steven lonis-shumate is forever immersed in the mundane. His writings explore the day-to-day (think laundry, cooking, shopping) and the accompanying thoughts and wanderings. He lives on a farm and bakes sourdough bread. steven is currently a student in the Creative Writing Masters of Arts program at Auburn University, recently finished his MA in Christian Practice at Duke Divinity School, and has been a University Professor for over 20 years until quitting recently to pursue writing. steven’s poetry has been published in Eunoia Review and The Orchards Poetry Journal.