Guest Poem by John Gosslee

John Gosslee’s poetry appears in Poetry Ireland Review, Popshot Magazine, The Moth, and many other great journals. His latest chapbook, about the father and son relationship, is Fish Boy (Nomadic Press, 2019).

Below the Night Sky and Blazing

My bones hollow, but I don’t grow feathers
like a good bird.

The village torches mark the trails
from the foothills into the rows of shops,
onto the box-heavy-delivery-truck-filled roads,
the scabs of progress flicker under the headlights.

The city’s rites stitched to the self’s ideas
of ownership turn into a living canvas
painted with screens and tax
and I’d rather be a finch in a tree.

But maybe understanding
is watching shadows
as if they were words.