History as Addendum and Night Terror (Acquisitio)
John A. Nieves | Poetry
“We’ll cover up the cover-ups and move on.”
—Robert Pollard
I’m wearing my thin invitation
on my already thin sleeve. The door
prize is to peek into the cordoned-
off crowd, to see the mourners or
revelers or faint fingers tracing
the secret sigil that keeps us all
away. It is always this dream I wake
from, always some exclusion on a humid
afternoon with no sun, too quiet to be
a wedding, too odd to be some sincere
remembrance. There are children’s
voices, but they’re not in eyeshot. Red trees
sag threateningly toward gray grass
as if to taunt it with color. The stanchions
are strung with hemp cord stained
from use. The whole affair smells
like the inside of an old hat. My hands
blister and bleed and shake.
John A. Nieves has poems forthcoming or recently published in journals such as Pleiades, Poetry Northwest, and Minnesota Review. He won the 2011 Indiana Review Poetry Contest and his first book, Curio, won the Elixir Press Annual Poetry Award Judge’s Prize. He is an Assistant Professor of English at Salisbury University. He received his MA from University of South Florida and his PhD from the University of Missouri.
Featured Image by Kaleb Nimz