Issue #33.2 Jason Kerzinski, Nicholas Skaldetvind, Richard LeDue

A Poem by Jason Kerzinski

Interest Keeps Spilling Over

student debt Jason sits at a coffee shop

sipping a latte with the finest latte art

made by a fellow student of debt

a student of debt named Mathew

who has been preaching unions to

his coworkers who look at him

not as a leader or a voice for change

but as a lukewarm cup of coffee

student debt Jason stares at the clock in anticipation

the hour of the daily call from the resolution group

who call only because they've been told

by the higher ups to make a daily phone call

with no intention of collecting a debt

a monetary debt that is now

accumulated 9863 dollars in interest

for a grand total of 29863 dollars owed

and the daily begging will begin

promptly at 6 PM

to not take 15 percent of student debt Jasons paycheck

where student debt Jason will lower himself to his knees

the coffee shop lowering to their knees

in solidarity with student debt Jason

because they are also debt holders

and nearly all of the population

are student debt holders

the coffee goers and the call center

employees who sleep in a cubicles

until their contract concludes

who will share a bathroom with 46 employees

until their contract concludes

who will be on a strict shower rotation

until their contract concludes

who will not see the sunshine

until their contract concludes

who will write detailed notes

about each student debt holders psychological states

until their contract concludes

hello student debt Jason

how are you to today student debt Jason

student debt Jason we can hear your nervous breathing

hello student debt Jason

how are you today student debt Jason

Good day student debt Jason

we will contact you promptly at 6 tomorrow

have a great night student debt Jason  

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Jason Kerzinski is a photographer, journalist, and poet known for his intimate street portraits and social justice storytelling. He began his artistic journey as a painter before transitioning to medium-format photography, capturing human experiences with depth and empathy. His work highlights systemic inequities, including projects like "Wrongful Convictions," which profiles recently exonerated individuals.

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A Poem by Nicholas Skaldetvind

The Blue Rider

It is true that I have worshipped olive trees, have been praying to whatever I can get.
I trust in the birdsong to open the window, in music to untune the sky.

I came here on a cloudy day asking what is the closest I can come in body to the conceptual.
Exhaling. Giving up by trusting in the dim homeostatic hum.  It changed my breathing, this

constant waking on the stairs of trees before the green window
of dove song I fashion my closing eye to.

Dreaming of a still world where space looks like the sound doves make at dawn,
the song of owls my pillow.  And still, to become a machine that hugs olive trees.

With the scent of coming and going.  A bipedal machine becoming commandeered by details. To become the vent drawing the outside in.  The inside out’s cloudy caress.

This is why silence threatens its own balance. Does not everything depend on the interpretation of the silence around us?

I read there is a boy in Owasco, New York and a boy in Ojai, California  breathing in each other’s ear.

In my two hands I hold the trees that protect these boys from the supervening
silence until they find their footing before an errant ending of the always in shadow

the dark blue of deep shade through which they notice the seasons change by
a geometry of their echoes.

To continue the metaphor, there is a man in Waiheke, Aotearoa.
We are all named Hank.

When you ask me if I found them, I turn my face
neither powerful nor powerless in an amplified space of reception

and filling your vision as you circle around it.
Resplendent in its opening I say no

I rescued them.

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Nicholas Skaldetvind lives in Albuquerque.

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A Poem by Richard LeDue

“The Secret of the Stars”

I’ve accepted my poems will probably die, while Brahms hollers into the night like drunk Christmas carolers, and the silence is okay with all of this, knowing the secret of the stars is that they believe in an immortality that’s really a morbid fact about their deaths and the speed of light, but if I’m lucky, my books will find a place in the fluorescent light of a thrift store tomb, where the cookbooks are in worse shape than the complimentary bibles.

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Richard LeDue (he/him) lives in Norway House, Manitoba, Canada. He writes poems. His last collection, “Existential Drunk,” was released from Alien Buddha Press in May 2026.

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