Paul Pfleuger, Jr.

Here we are for someone’s rebound moment racing through backroads and you in the passenger seat being sped along with the windows down the driver’s hand keeping the beat on the wheel as your skull is post-post grunged into burning bags of excrement lying in front of you ironic choruses bellowed off-key the smoke from 100s the taste of you still on them that thought when the hand possessed by the music reaches down for you and your body responding warmly knowing no better automotive onomatopoeia occurring to you at this crossroads cliché the petal to the metalness you somehow come to this lover you’re a toy for as they say with the singer what they’re going do to you when you get where you’re going it might as well be a place you thought buried with the chances of becoming any one of those faces at the door that answer bells as kids run like hell hide and tell about the moment a song about a song and it goes like this.

Originally from Buffalo, New York, Paul Pfleuger, Jr. now lives, writes and teaches in Chiayi, Taiwan. His work has appeared in several anthologies and in print and online journals and zines. He is the former co-editor of R'r online journal and is the author of A Zodiac, released by Red Moon Press in 2013.

 
 

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