Brent Lucia was born and raised in Massachusetts but has been living in New York City for the past ten years. He is currently an adjunct lecturer at City College of New York and has been teaching both literature and writing courses for the past four years. His poetry and short stories have appeared in such literary journals as BlazeVOX12, Five Quarterly, The Promethean, and Shot Glass Journal.
Failed departure. She breaks the news about Gary in the office. Red heals come off. Butchered. Make me happen in this blood!
Think about dinner parties. Carol called, something about the reception. I’m pregnant, but with an evil. She can’t listen.
I can’t stop.
We fake hug. Mother wants the ocean sounds. Next weekend, in the Vineyard, darling you promised. Melting in Oak bluffs,
I could sleep in a dream less defined. I could lick the hot gun. Just the tip. Signing up for girl scouts, she’s shouting in the yard: “Father! Father!”
Fix my spirit,
Fix my brand,
Fix my fucking coffin. I take comfort in my sky blue, cashmere sweater. Suppressing my power tie. Bought for me by my angelic wife. We’re floating now, to the Vineyard like some strange, silent balloon.