W I N D M I L L I N G

ANDREW LUNDWALL

These poems have appeared in Rock Heals, Otoliths, PFS Post, and Skicka. Much thanks to the editors of these publications.

Scantily Clad Press, 2008

sebastian says

i've got big stairsis what that isthat house is like thatget me house

where's my chalkmy refuse my face my fusesuppose on the sidewalkmy bicycle recycled

all of this holy shack up the boyis a fraction of what'll becomewhat about the boy said aloudbring to me what was my catholic chalk

recovery

who are you then that i shouldnot recover my eyes realize pleasethat every tree is its own apocalypseand my mind's shuttered in

whistler

the blind handsof august wearyof strangling starsfall into the graffitiof her moist lap

powder this however

kissable lampshade lips grasp the cocaine glow of go

such nomadic in the mind felt gone mad up into this wind

the less i've seen the more i've earned back minimum wage

this solitude is beefy to run a roadmap by so and so much

chunks of sorts that fall from heavens' lap to now

raining night stars such crucial given take

i've an urge to shadowbox up my belongings here and there

powder this however

you wish too

memory's trooperwomen

kingdom was full head thing sort of chronological fled of my eyeshades air given my lips my weakened blood kiss memory's trooperwomen my body sunk in real lobotomy swallow the departure slide warm now

solitude deluxe

the shock of intimate fade and thinking dark long nights less room to mind her secret sound where eyes my hands go

i've eggshells kept aside especially bitten alike and melodious as her silhouettes penetrate an unsupportive truth to drink solitude away feeling guilt fountains such crucial belongings do a curtain a tremor i'd laid glow of make

blaring loss

she and it you'd regarded with cocaine face of burden miles of gray like a beard thund'ring overflow on all fours blaring loss excessive strip club mouths that screw chunks of sleep a wilderness urge bewitching hard with now raining night into neon veins that blaze smoke the heavens' fingertip

sophie

sophie’s hands reload my shadowrewind my windowstoned in the afterglowof a blue leopard’s eyessoggy like so many moonsas bourbon babies emergefrom dated floral curtainsof next door bakerybubbling doughyunknowingand across the streetgroaning metallic gruntworkerswasted apostolic black out beneath the yellow flowing midnight robe of a meth-addicted monk

Andrew Lundwall's work has appeared in numerous print and electronic literary journals internationally, including 5_trope, Dead Horse Review, Seven Corners, Aesthetica, PFS Post, Lost & Found Times, Big Bridge, Eratio, Shampoo, Moria, Get Underground, 21 Stars Review, Deep Cleveland, Sidereality, Retort Magazine, Admit Two, SpaceBreather, Aught, xStream, Ink Magazine, Dream People, Dead Drunk Dublin, Blackbox, Score, Near South, Miami Sun Post's Mad Love, Unlikely Stories, 88: A Journal of Contemporary American Poetry, Litter, Ocho, Otoliths, rock heals, and Blazevox.

He has released two chapbooks, klang (deep cleveland press, 2006) and funtime (Funtime Press, 2007), a collaboration with Adam Fieled. He lives in Illinois.