Issue #30.6 A Triple Issue: Jim Daniels, Jason Davidson, Bebe Cullen
A Poem by Jim Daniels
Sleeping on the Floor of my Office After a Fight
was like giving my own self a timeout to pout in the corner while she slept drunk and comfy
in the bed back home. I wanted to call her on the office phone. to remind her I’d run away
and was going to stay in my office until she apologized. It makes me laugh even now
forty years later, finding the xeroxes of my face I made that night
squeaking WANTED in permanent marker across the top of the page.
We broke up over the phone. Her office just down the hall from mine. But she never slept there.
Breaking up was like making a xerox of your face. Blinding light searing eyeballs, hair
flattened into insanity. Permanent marker invisible forever.
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Jim Daniels’ Late Invocation for Magic: New and Selected Poems is forthcoming from Michigan State University Press. His first book of nonfiction, Ignorance of Trees, was published in 2025, and his latest fiction book, The Luck of the Fall, was published in 2023. A native of Detroit, he currently lives in Pittsburgh and teaches in the Alma College low-residency MFA program.
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A Poem by Jason Davidson
A Chest, A Home
the seawall, the sand-castles, the slaughter-house. my crushed courage, your belated brave. on the death-line, an old woman with ink beneath her fingertips coos brightly. sweat drains from her slip-knot like the sea remembers, but she takes each of their tongues to task. the sea always remembers. do you remember the sea, little comma? wildfire broke out upon the open water and we cherished our claustrophobia. we were no one. we were good bones. we broke open only momentarily and kept our pockets filled with stones. lonesome stones. stones painted with their faces. hello, little brother. hello, little sister. that terrible spring, you emptied your pockets and floated into the air. a rendering. a shift-change. old mother dark-star caught you staring and carried you away, into the night. come home, little comma. my chest opens like a puzzle, surrounded by your moat. come home.
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Jason Davidson is a poet, fiction writer and theatre-maker. He's written, directed and produced over two hundred works of experiential theatre. His poetry has appeared in journals such as Unbroken, Cathexis North, Quibble and is forthcoming in Rawhead and others. When he isn't traveling, he lives on California's Central Coast with his husband and small brood of four-legged children. He's slowly finishing his first novel and a new full-length collection of poetry.
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A Poem by Bebe Cullen
I Let It Enfold Me
Said I loved fashion, said This is where I find the combs and This is where I find the cigarette packs. This is my favorite boy because he always picks up his newspaper At the same time every day. 2:54, right off the bus. Cried lots of times a day At trumpets and thunder and strawberries And how you’d lean over the chair and How they were eating. They ate so fast. I took a lot of showers And let the water boil and pour Over my shoulders and down my spine And it hit my achilles heel and felt like a blanket or blood.
Summer came with tractors and Feet dirty from unswept floors. My thighs touched. My skin cleared. My hair grew and Knotted and Waved. It’s been a month since I said You were beautiful And funny And so so smart And you said I’m sorry And I didn’t stay To hear why.
I let ants bite me because That’s how you make friends. Let sweat build up on the Back of my neck, Wouldn’t wipe it off. Let my leg hair grow, Let my mailbox fill up, Let my window stay open, All week long. “Silver Springs” Over and over Except I didn’t run for you.
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Bebe Cullen is a high school sophomore from Falmouth, Maine. Although she runs her school’s online magazine, this is her first real publication, and she is so, so excited. She’s her community’s cult classic and is often called a “piece of work.” She’s ready to see where she can go next. Her favorite word is precocious, just so you know.
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