by Isaac Pickell
fight back: a socket
with red warning
says thanks; a platter
overwhelmed by metal-
wool says do
the dishes; a ribcage
coaxed in black
tar and feather
says may i have
another; a bookcover
splashed italic color
and our name says
translated, to speak
for tired bodies
sitting sick of being
sung. your brain won’t
remember what you have
seen, but remembers the last
time you remembered.
Isaac Pickell is a biracial poet working out of Detroit, where he is a PhD student and English instructor at Wayne State University. His work can be found in Fence, The Journal, Ninth Letter, and Pleiades. Isaac has taken a seat in all fifty states and has so much to look forward to.