jack spicer
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“The Summer’s Over, Jack Spicer!” by Matthew Dickman
And Paris, France, is still Paris, France, though we’ve never been there together but might if life were a little longer and no one ever invented knives. I am crossing the bridge again and the city is behind me being rescued or being destroyed with a leaf on the end of a branch turning maple-syrup…
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“Orpheus in Athens” by Jack Spicer
The boy had never seen an honest man. He looked among us every night he said. He eyed each stranger like Diogenes And took him with his lantern into bed. He’d probe the stranger’s body with that light Search every corner of his flesh and bone But truth was never there. He’d spend the night…
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