Five Poems – Joshua Merchant

IceFloe Press

Alt Music to 2007

when it wasn’t my brother and I
it was just me and when it wasn’t

the blunt I knew I couldn’t be or
the smoke I ran away from, spindled

within the confines of my bedsheets,
it was the ragtag bunch pre awkward

and black boom- picture silicon valley,
gentrification extracted; not quite displaced

on purpose, loud sometimes, ashy sometimes,
over it often. I was the goofball. just for them

though. there was no pecking order.
vultures can only spell names when they’re

spoiled and I didn’t speak possum. none of us did.
in my peripheral there’s some guy- chiseled

or something of a brush stroke- and I turn
my head to see my friend making the most

hilarious noise I’ve heard all week and I think
to myself how lucky I am to discretely kiki

with a tribe that pushes me to click
the spine…

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