Lousy

Page 1

Lousy

Nicholas Arthur



Lousy By Nicholas Arthur







Some writing on the back of a Polaroid. Magic flowers bloom your name. I was laughing too loud in a graveyard the other day. I drew a few stares from the burial across the way. They lowered the casket, scattered dirt across the lid. There’s a grittiness on my teeth from last night’s wine. My hair sticks up in different directions. I kept trying to work out a kink in my neck. Birds sung into a clear blue day. I kept laughing despite the stares. I was talking too loud in the same graveyard, amongst the whooshing cars from the nearby freeway. My voice mingling below the sound of the groundskeeper mowing the lawn. I could hear someone sobbing softly in the distance. So far away I couldn’t see them. I wondered if I was imagining it. I kept talking anyway. About how the Tigers were doing. Which friends got married, moved away or died. About which TV shows got cancelled. I talked until my mouth started to dry out. Until a creak appeared in my voice on certain syllables. I talked until I didn’t have words. When I ran out, I laid down on the grass next to your grave and closed my eyes.








About Nicholas Arthur is 27 years old and currently lives in Michigan. He is a Wayne State University graduate. Along with poetry he dabbles in music and art. When he is not writing he can be found looking in the bargain bin at the record store, drinking coffee far too late at night and eating breakfast any time he pleases. He has a cat named Simba.


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