Two Poems by Eric Wallgren


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.






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.