two poems by Aaron Sandberg

Vow (Making a Scene)             


               Somehow I’m here,

               using piñatas as therapy—

stealing the bats,

and tying the blind,

to show all the kids how it’s done.


                I swing until something connects,

                till there’s fun on the lawn,

or blood on cone hats—

I can’t tell if they’re laughs,

or if those are cries.


                And somehow there’s you,

                still tying one off,

peering over your drink,

rolling your eyes,

faking your yawn.


                And somewhere back there,

                our hearts sparked a fire—

exploding like loose pink balloons,

once tied to the mail,

that sailed to find black telephone wire.



Coat Smoke


Late at my parents’ party,

I’d lie atop the winter coats


piled on the bed in the spare,

inhale my smoky lives yet lived,


and hear the murmured mingles

wafting up from down the stairs—


secrets near still worlds away.



Aaron Sandberg has appeared or is forthcoming in Phantom Kangaroo, Asimov’s, No Contact, Alien Magazine, The Shore, The Offing, Sporklet, Right Hand Pointing, Halfway Down the Stairs, Crow & Cross Keys, Burningword Journal, Whale Road Review, and elsewhere. A multiple Pushcart and Best of the Net nominee, you can see him—and his poetry posts—on Instagram @aarondsandberg.



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