Lucas Peel

things i cannot tell my mother

the sliding glass door was not the escape i hoped it’d be

post bindlestick / razor scooter fight or flight

orchidbloom of binky & babyteeth / blanketfort

curfewbreaker / first light spills like a puddle / hipwader

splash into tomorrow / eat the moon like candy

mouthbreather / memory is a child clutching your leg

in the park / i am both child & remembrance

shrine containing only refrigerators / macaroni picture frames

i want to explain / call home

how the sidewalk lies / how careless i am

curious boy / nothing knows truth like absence

exhale / your leaving will be an invitation

i can / will follow you out

learning to use my father’s gun

your skin was like mine of course : guilty / of trespass. to be inside of something

/ and not worry if you are welcome / is a blessing / that only comes with arrogance

/ amnesia. / the way freckles dance on your face when you laugh with / at my lack

of better judgement is something like this: bleached by the sober-as-fuck sun

/ disappointment in its leathery drought / and what i’ve turned away from:

the interstate / the chickenwire fence / the guilt they were built on / in place of.

/ the fact that we are existing atop all these bones is a testament to survival / i think

/ or some other kind of haunting / if you are not here to suck out the last bits of marrow

from our collective kill / this pledge of allegiance / this communion of violence /

there just will be another desperate animal / coming out of the forest / to take your place.

Lucas Peel is a big mouth moonlighting as an adult. His work has appeared in a handful of shelves on his mother's dresser. Lucas currently lives in Aiea, Hawaii. We do not know what he is yelling about.

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