I want to write you many letters. I eat many protein bars. I divide myself into many desires,
each desire wearing another desire’s face and too hotcold to hold onto. I don’t
disbelieve many of my poems are premonitions. I write out a feeling
I’m too afraid to know and know it. I don’t listen to your many voicemails.
I write a poem called my voicemail is broken–hearted. My voicemail’s receiver was broken
when I got the call. I didn’t know what to do so I rode my skateboard up and down the sidewalk.
The sky was burning up. I was in a shadow, so I had no shadow
to divide myself into. The sidewalk, smooth to kick upon. The line I ride is a short one
and I pass by no one. Quick dusk. I think you are invisible or at distance. Here,
there’s nothing I can give you.

 

 

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TR BRADY is a trans poet and fiber artist from Arkansas. TR received their MFA from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. Their work has appeared in Tin House, Bennington Review, Black Warrior Review, New England Review, The Arkansas International, and elsewhere. TR is the co-founder/co-editor of Afternoon Visitor and lives in Moscow, Idaho.

 

The art that appears alongside this piece is by GRANT RAUN.