Joseph Salvatore Aversano


having been born two years before
the year they said would be the last

and then to go on breathing
makes me a survivor of that end;

and my brother, born after
can be said to be a survivor too

although he wasn't yet aware
of the all risks that go with living

(and not that I was even aware
as there was snow piled on high

every winter just the same
as my security blanket)

                               for Tom

as children we would run off
hide in dense suburban shrubs
or along the edge of
the woods our mothers
could never call us
back from;

or we would instead
ride our bikes out to the bridges out
past the islands of reeds and on
to the barrier island
of dunes until finally
out of bike path;

but we continued on
pedalling anyway and away
from our mothers and all their
plans for us concerning
their Jehovah’s
new earth;

and so making it
headlong for the sea
and with all of the devil’s
godspeed got a bit too
carried away and so I pedalled
till the Mid-Atlantic Ridge was far
         behind me

                               for Dave

kicked out of the polis again
and outfitted with the scapegoat’s care pack:
its pockets stuffed with all the things you
may never need:

a torn ticket stub from the theater; a receipt from
the agora; and an unopened grand sweepstakes letter
sent to the wrong address; and a coffee club card
with just one more stamp needed
for that free latte


note no two notes twice that's that

that the ears could make it real how

hard or softly struck its decay

as it could last

Joseph Salvatore Aversano currently lives with his wife Asu in the Aegean port city of Izmir (Smyrna); and he counts himself among those making the claim that it was indeed the hometown of Homer. He is the author of the recently published chapbook When Izmir is the Sound of Silver (otata’s bookshelf, 2018).
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