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Two Poems – Logan Ellis

catalyst : drown

as start is to deep end.
as deep end is to vortex.
as vortex is to dead shadow.
as shadow is to instrumental entrance.
as entrance is to sleepwalking.
as sleepwalking is to round trip.
as round trip is to meet me in the light.
as meet me in the light is to bugs caught and cooked in Heaven’s fixtures.
as Heaven is to naked pattern.
as naked is to sudden wailing.
as wailing is to tucking an armful of sparrows into your skin.
as wet leaves is to uncovered pool
as uncovered pool is to an ocean’s earthquake
as earthquake is to a vortex of appendages frothing forming skinning
as vortex is to exit
as exit is to newborn shadow
as newborn is to stepping out of the shallow end, fully clothed
as shallow end is to first warm memory
as memory is to trigger for the war


how : cleansing

Last night, your French Braid was found abbreviated in
the dry palm of a house fire.

I’ll explain how.

At a party, we took Hydrocodone
and tipped our heads against the fireplace.
It felt like being in a mezzanine.
It felt like that mezzanine was underwater.
It felt like, in the underwater mezzanine, airplanes
were flying until they turned into kites, trapped
the sci-fi bodies of everyone inside.

I know better now.
The body builds more blood, and
we’re the dead trees of the party illuminated
by streetlamps.

We catch
fire as if no one
is watching, burrowing an accidental
home from the flames. Someone pulls
us out as unscathed rooms
of color, taking us outside and
making sure our hands don’t cup
like a prayer.

We stand as fire trucks strike the air with mallets
and evening clouds decorate their faces with the sun’s direction.
You touch the back of your head, startled and happy.
The shadow of a man forms on a brick wall across the street,
the first time I’ve seen a shadow return from the desert as
an empty-handed—five seconds behind from the beginning.

But this is all just a list of first times,
one that needs editing.
A house is on fire; I’m calm;
& sometimes, there’s no need to catch up.


Logan Ellis is the hodgepodge nunnery of writing, the hardcore triple-berry espresso of wordcraft. He has received his Bachelor’s Degree in English, creative writing, and Linguistics from the University of Arkansas at Little Rock and is currently enrolled in the Graduate Writing Program at the California College of the Arts. His work has been featured in ElevenEleven, The Brasilia Review, and The Electronic Encyclopedia of Experimental Literature by tNY Press, among others.

Both catalyst : drown and how : cleansing were previously published in Fuck Art, Let’s Dance issue #011

Filed under: Poetry

About the Author

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Jeremiah Walton is wary of bios, but there's the current sign they're flying: “Jeremiah Walton is founder of Nostrovia! Press & traveling bookstore Books & Shovels. They’ve featured at the NYC Poetry Festival, Oakland Beast Crawl, San Francisco Lit Crawl, Death Rattle, the Kansas City Poetry Throwdown, Cleveland’s Guide to Kulchur: Snoetry, among other lit fests, street corners, & living rooms across the country. They loath-themselves, & are struggling to find a healthy extension of the poem that incorporates publishing. Consistently confused, & trying to make space for compassion for the parts of myself I hate.” That feels like tattooing "love me" across my neck, but hopefully you get to know me thru my poems, not the accolades that are nothing more than memories to let go of.

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