Selected Poetry by Josh Pearce

September 11, 2020

 

 Photo Source: PxHere

 

Knots

 

 

 

If the universe is

in fact

just made of strings

 

then we are knots

hung suspended

in spacetime's cat's

cradle

 

an intersection of thought

 

and occasionally the hands

of the gods come together

to stretch us out in jacob's

ladders

 

while we remain

unmoved, unblinking, and unaware,

 

quite suddenly

the lattice of everything

around us

 

has changed.

 

 

 

 

Sirena

 

 

 

mamas always told

sailor sons to stay

away

from loose skirts

 

to only go diving off

the topsails

for girls who'll look

good

in a mermaid wedding

gown

 

always just to say

 

that ursula

and morgana

have parrot-beak

dentata

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hortus Conclusus

 

 

 

She's your angel

bedeviled beside her

 

Let's be biblical here

she bit her lip and moaned

 

Better than the girl you don't

is the girl you have known.

 

She's no angel

be the devil inside her

 

Let's be biblical here

nip her lips and mons

 

Better porn was never known

than this song of songs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Firefly Storm

 

 

 

(fi)

in clouds

of ink-black

beetles

(ref)

water

(ly)

striders

fall

(sto)

to

lightning

bug crash

(rm)

 

 

 

 


Fortune Teller

 

 

 

Went to the fortune teller

and asked,

 

is there 

somebody

for me?

 

She put down a card for

my wants and a card for

memories, one for 

my thoughts and the hand 

on the table was me.

 

I said, my hand is like 

so many hands.

I want a different

fortune. I want

a different

somebody.

 

But fortune says you can be

unique or you can be

loved, you can't 

have it both ways.

 

After I died the fortune

teller shuffled for millions her

genetic deck of hearts for

millennia her few card

trick combinations of

organs and fluids and dreams

until one of the only so many

possible somebodies in the

universe was the same being

I'd been.

 

And I looked at

this game

of memory for

a matching

hand.

 

 

 

Josh Pearce has stories and poetry in Analog, Asimov’s, Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Cast of Wonders, Clarkesworld, IGMS, and Nature. He currently works at Locus magazine and lives in California with his wife and sons. One time, Ken Jennings signed his chest.

 

If you are interested in checking out Josh Pearce's website, you can find it here as well as his twitter here.

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