|
warm wet corduroy shame turning cool
nausea from stick shift pickup trucks and a coffe cup,
gathering tobacco. unflushable bathroom pipes,
paper waste bath tissue and a grocery bag for these
toilet stuffs, spit-up. the
basement converted
to a leaking kennel, albino barnyard dog rouged
shades of butchered livestock and uprooted garbage.
playing in a condemned shower and the water-
bed's talking dirty waves; we were intercepted bare-
chested rubbing, him and me:
cowlicks and nicknames,
in a dying farmhouse, royal white paint flaking off
all the grand trees, felled, low spots in the green
dust-matted carpet; in the after school hours—
and this where of sex, first said and displayed,
runs warm cords cool down legs: babe, it's okay
Nathan B. Smith is 24 years old and has received a degree in psychology from Ohio State
University, as well as having studied English/Literature at Heidelberg University,
Portland State University, and Ohio State. He was born in northwestern Ohio
and has been traveling and moving about the last few years, having
recently lived in Vancouver British Columbia, Portland Oregon,
New Orleans Louisiana, Berlin Germany, and is presently residing
in Sarasota Florida. He has been taking on odd jobs to finance his
leisures of reading, writing, and traveling. Most recently
he has been employed as a bartender at an opera house. He has
blue eyes and likes avocados and novels from the nineteen-twenties.
Email: Nathan B. Smith
Return to Table of Contents
|