Chased by the Dream
Poetry by Jack Lavelle / Artwork by Chris Boyko
Chased by the Dream
I’m ten feet small/drained in standing pools
sucking thermometers mercurial as I
Staining drunk white tablecloths
drenched with fucking
nailing rich boys to crosses
in works of art and on golf courses
drip little drop drips Pollock painting
gray hair and white eyes
There is no relief to
Some Nights I Was Motherless
The other man took your moonlight
that night
but He cannot stand
to bear
your child.
when the You that moonlight became was become the second person
when the you are second person who made you come You
when
moonlight becomes the second person
to recite our names in the same breath
to list our names in a document, togeth
If I should lose you, some childish night
when the other man finds perfect time,
Let there be no motherless child
perfect, you are
the nights when dreams are spurned.
burning with foolish thoughts like:
online tickets to romantic places, [I sensed the words
steaming densely out of my face]
I sent worlds
that told you
what my hurt meant
in a fairground, taking paintled swigs
in a cold pocket
a perfect telephone rings
the Swimmer
it’s a nice color.
.ocean.
How do you say:
Excuse the mess
in Japanese?
in words we can,, understand:
i thought you told me
It usually doesn’t rain
on the Arizona
There are so many things you don’t know.
do you realize
After that day. your daughter was never
the same.
You must really like,, water
.so tell me
grandfather,
Why were you diving for pearls
on a Sunday?
There are things you should know
grandfather
you should know
we’re not in
your south anymore
You should know I’m a young man,
grandfather.
I already like this water
Too much.
You do not know this but
I overcompensate–
I drink it straight
just like
It's me, Who?
Open up
Quickly I’ll
sing a song of
door knocks
and picked locks
fucked on by old clocks and
slipshod tick tocks
sucked off, locking jaws with any
lady luck looking to go down for a shark tooth
or a quick fuck
unprotected from dreams
of angry showers, sexing steam
I’m a smothered scream only the floor hears,
ears covered, writhing and wringing
I sing a song of sex
would you hit me
I am
If I Should Promise
I didn't see you often; but
I wasn't alone because
you weren't available;
I was with Him.
and when we were together,
there was a witness, He saw me from the
back
doorway, we didn't know he'd be
home; I always looked
back, so soon.
At the time
it seemed like
it was because I knew
it was embarrassing Him;
you were never in my dreams, His nightmares:
Love,
a long walk home
with me
again
Learn more about Jack Lavelle and his writing on his website,
and check out more of Chris boyko's art on his website and Instagram.
Contributors
Jack Lavelle
Jack Lavelle is a writer from San Diego. He graduated from Columbia with a degree in philosophy and visual arts, and lives in Los Angeles, where he works as a video editor in Hollywood. Jack represented by InkWell Management and is working on his debut novel. His work investigates the ways contemporary society and history fracture and sculpt language.
Chris Boyko
Chris Boyko is an Atlanta-based artist known for his surrealistic interpretation of everyday life. He received his Bachelor of Fine Arts from Kennesaw State University in 2014.