Dark Water

Nick Soluri 



these black rivers swallow me,

my lungs buried beneath oceans

of mud and rotting fish, breathe


of nothing left in me now,

no light shines over me,

the street signs look magical


in their geometric magnitudes,

stop signs are cubist again,

like doing drugs my mom would


disapprove of but i still do anyway,

this dark water surrounds me,

all of my fingers turn to prunes


or raisins at the bottom of

a bag of trail mix that have been

deliberately avoided, left alone,


and when the lagoon becomes

whole, the sound following suit,

all deltas of life will converge


on the voice of all families,

with waves of symphonic women

and a multitude of love flowers.



Nick Soluri is an undergraduate student at Union College in New York. He’s been previously published in OcculumThe Slag ReviewAlbany Poets, and others. He wants to thank those at the New York State Summer Writers Institute who helped workshop his poetry, and hopes that they too will find homes for their beautiful pieces. He lives in North Carolina, and is trying to get out of there. It’s too hot.