you grip your hand
when you see me tensing
sudden wanting at the thai restaurant
overwhelmed fireplace coal glow
I have at least six moles around my groin
in the car - tiny sunfire
with immense wings
return through the dust
raise clouds pull over let off
fingernails on thighs
legs falling asleep with animals draped
cardamom and cinnamon coffee
blood. the third from last pastry.
raising lust as inhibitor.
these obscene men
bursting bellies reckoning as minor gods
..die on my windshield
take the place of this dragonfly.
once, a story of terribly fearful people
redirecting passions: they lost a home,
the animals, they lost
their tangible embodiments of kin and
broke three mirrors so their newborns
wouldn’t grow blessed.
I need more, take the place of this dragonfly
I cannot call this country home with its bondage.
Watch us fly, new country, watch us fly.
Cody Stetzel is a Seattle resident migrating from California after having escaped upstate New York. He is the managing editor for Five:2:One Magazine, a poetry editor for the Rise Up Review, and a staff book reviewer for Glass Poetry Press. He is an active reader for the Pen City Writers Program. He received his Masters in Creative Writing for Poetry from the University of California at Davis. His writing can be found previously in Aster(ix) Journal, the Live Oak Review, the East Coast Literary Review, and Neovox. He can be found @pretzelco on twitter.