Maneuvering through life
like an iceberg
sinking everything
in my course
Malware
Off-kilter
unbalanced
I feel off-center
maladroit
malcontent
I feel maligned
sleep would be
the only way
to reset my mood
I can’t lie still
my world is spinning
away, out of control
out of sequence
unleashed
I feel out of sync
sardonic
insatiable
unable to say no
a slap in the face
would be a great way
to end this day
I can’t sit still
my head is spinning
away, I can’t hold on
Belate
Unscathed
a mirror maze
a complicated fate
dried up by every day-to-day
belate
Temperate Lichen
Rising over violent squall
gravel on my windshield
highway near the ocean
rain slows to a drizzle
I sight a sign of hesitation
step into temperate lichen
boardwalk practical
designed to be magical
morphing into staircase
twisting within murmuring creek
without anyone breathe deep
drawing in cedar on the air
waves crashing on remote coast
it’s busy season, visitors near & far
in search of immersion why not go all in
here I am dead between the open ocean
& imagining lonely tidal youthful looks
end of the road on massive wooden dock
tuning forks emit low sound
a shuddering luxury
an excellent vantage point
driftwood thunder washed ashore
with the enthusiasm of black seas rocks
in reflection of graveyard lighthouse
see it firsthand at crack of dawn
seethe & foam mesmerizing moments
sneaky operator clanging buoy in background
aquarium throws parity nudging starfish
spurning relative calm of violent oxygen
clouds hang billowing posing for a landscape
Swept Away
Floating without
thoughts,
surrender to life
junkie like me, this
itinerary
was pure
fellow passenger
I, zodiac
memorable trip
tantalizing isolation
feeling distinctly unsettl ed
island under skin
chasing after
cover story
remind me of a midsummer-night’s dream?
“Ate Tapes” by Steve Shultz
Ate Tapes
Time is a tape deck
we are stuck
on rewind,
fast to skip ahead
cassette,
eaten up inside
pause button stuck,,,
as we try to pick up
our spilled black ribbon entrails
Steve Shultz currently throws mail for the United States Postal Service. He is a former journalist with The Denver Post and Rocky Mountain News. He is native to Colorado, born and raised, calling the Mile High suburb of Aurora home for most of his life. He is the author of FM Ghost, his first collection of poetry. His work has been featured in various zines and publications both online and in print. Read more of his poetry at here.
Featured Image by Robbie Masso. Find him on Facebook, instagram, and his website.
Clay
Sculpt me
in something
other than
your preconceived
clay perceptions
watered down
damaged cover
ripped off to be
sold marked down
fuck me
in something other
than resentment
god damn you
for changing your mind
when you broadcast your resolve
sandwiched between
morally acceptable
& socially irreversible
one will find the truth
in excess or
at least in an excuse
find your muse
in a bottle
or in a fuse
mind your q’s
silence your sighs
just don’t do what you please
Bereft
Looking for
meaning
I am feeling
bereft
of purpose
Devoid
Of feeling
I am meaning
To do something
Important
I am lapsing in
My judgement
Feeling
I am lacking
As a husband
A father
As a self, myself
I am battling in my health
A child’s laugh
Makes me smile
But now my tears
Are all grown up
I’m all grown up
But now my tears
are welling up
I’ve been gone too long
now it’s time to come back home
Come & Now Gone
Old friends
come & now gone
they make us who we are
leaving memories & breaking
our hearts
From A to Sleep
Wake me
up from this dream
sequencing shortcomings
from A to sleeping off the pain
of day
FM Ghost 