Potluck

 

T H I S    W E E K

Poems by Jessie Janeshek

 

Two Poems

 

Puking Up Fluoride When I Know I Haven’t Eaten Any
 

I swipe my tongue between my gums and teeth

stepping through a glass door into
sun-lit jostles between waves and pieces of air.

I think of a joke where two men walk into
a bar that I will never walk into

because those men and that bar

are not a part of our world.

 

 

 

 

Aliens
 

Last night in my dream they were 
             begging you to get a lobotomy;

the dream        ended 

when you stopped feeling tormented 
                          and you agreed.

                                       More than anything,
              I would like to be convinced—

 

 

 

 

Eric Wallgren lives in Chicago, IL.  Find him online here.