LIONTAMER'S BLUES

lrdalby:

EVERYONE WHO KNOWS ME WILL DISAPPEAR IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO

DAVID TOMALOFF

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The orange teeth of the concrete kicked in, I wound my way through the city’s maze until I found my weighted heart unchained &set free. I woke up in the arms of a meadow I once loved, where I’d slipped into sleep on a mouthful of blood. I woke up next to a mother’s ghost, tired &battered from the mornings of all the nights before. More than slightly, Miss Tucson, you fucked me up, &you left me there to wither. I reasoned that if I could get out for a couple of days, I might get to see the space where I’d lived—where I might have lived if everI had truly lived—to see who I might have been on the other end of the gun. The buildings at night with their shadowed plaster peepholes. My lungs, like a couple of pump organs, beating out natural flats until I wound up here with a fifth. She is the ragged specter within me; she is the child I never was. I BUILT HER A PLACE IN THE FOREST. I left her there &never returned.

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David Tomaloff is a writer, photographer, musician, and all around bad influence. His work has appeared in fine publications such as Mud Luscious, >kill author, Thunderclap!, HOUSEFIRE, Prick of the Spindle, DOGZPLOT, elimae, and many more. He is the author of the chapbooks, A SOFT THAT TOUCHES DOWN &REMOVES ITSELF (NAP) Olifaunt (The Red Ceilings Press), EXIT STRATEGIES (Gold Wake Press) and MESCAL NON-PALINDROME CINEMA (Ten Pages Press). He resides in the form of ones and zeros at: davidtomaloff.com

Thank you, Mr. Tomaloff, from your friends at PIPE DREAM.

(Source: pipedreamzine)