Two times two equaled sixty-nine incomplete equations–all the positional subterfuge one Gemini multiplied into another, limber formulae in four dimensions because time crosses the space, the mirrors along the bed for our watching twins–look how they grin and preen into polygons, a one-night tesseract angling into twenty-three months. No surprise we met in August–our Virgo mothers looming in the ceiling shadows, their folded arms cast by blinds pushing the moon out of the way of my tendency to talk too dirty, your quiet half tasting like the salty lip of rock and sea–you called it Italy, but I knew that one was a zero–the morning we tried to finish fifty-one, you left for your place before finishing your latte, complaining about my bacon being too soggy, but I’d seen your face in the nearest mirror–you had calculated the future division, drew a straight line past it.
Ben Kline is a poet, storyteller and very Gemini type of Gemini from Cincinnati (the Ohio one) whose work has appeared in Pangyrus, South Carolina Review, Poetry, DIAGRAM and other beautiful publications. He loves coffee, martinis, short shorts, ghosts and Madonna. He hates math, but understands it answers almost every question (a poem can ask) about the universe. Born in a year of the tiger, this 💀 feels good between his teeth.
(Gemini sun, Gemini moon, Scorpio rising)
- On Wednesday I Get Ashes at the Drive-Thru
Katelyn Botsford Tucker
- How To Lie On Your Back Underwater And Not Drown Your Fool Self
- The Day Ends. The Day Ends. The Day Ends.
- And if this is where you live, welcome home
- After Saying John Ashbery’s Poetry Is Like Getting Out of a Bath When It’s Still Warm, And My Workshop Instructor Laughs and Tells Us He’s Going to Tell His Friend I Said That, Repeating What I Said in a Lower Voice, Not Like “John Ashbery’s Poetry Is Like Getting Out of a Bath When It’s Still Warm” but More Like “John Ashbery’s poetry is like getting out of a bath when it’s still warm” Because People Don’t Normally Talk in Capitals, and Did Y’all Know I Visited the Capitol in Fifth Grade on a School Field Trip as a “Safety Patrol,” Back When I Didn’t Know the Responsibilities Behind Patrolling a School, Before An Intoxicated Man Intruded My High School Last Year and the School Cop, on Their First Day, Didn’t Know What to Do, so the Local Cops Shot the Intruder in the Same Building I Was in