from Reasons To Say I
Decades later, in a boat in the snow, I wake up wanting. Don’t ask
me if it really happened. Often you’re alone in the world and you
just know it. Compare it to the impostor in your bathtub.
If you look closely at the world you find red ants underneath. &
stillness in the afternoon. & Jesus Christ smoking cigarettes. Who
tore the photographs apart? I like these faces. They look like real
I see nothing I could show you is a religion. Wind comes from no
direction. A ghost is in possession of its chair, a ghost is a fixed
point of departure. In another version of the same story, I turn god
back into a word and it feels correct. I am toys bobbing in a
The hills are said to be breasts, and the cowboy lies down. The
planet is hot if you want it to be. One crow speaks out of context,
out of context I could be your mother. Who put me here with my
shoes? The end of the world is an old joke. Everything feels the
same except horrible. Tea pots raining down.
C DYLAN BASSETT is the author of three forthcoming chapbooks, Some Futuristic Afternoons (Strange Cage, 2014), LakeStory (Thrush Press, 2014), and One Continuous Window (Mouthfeel Press, 2014). His poems are published/forthcoming in journals such as the Black Warrior Review, the Cincinnati Review, CutBank, Diagram, Hayden’s Ferry Review, Pleiades, Verse Daily. He’s received fellowships from the Stadler Center for Poetry and the Morrie Moss Foundation. He attends the Iowa Writers’ Workshop and co-edits likewise folio / likewise books.