2 Poems


The sky threatened to break. I called its bluff. It broke and all the birds
took the opportunity to leave. I had no idea that birds could breathe in the
hollow expanding emptiness space & nobody else did either.

A small boy flies from California to Hawaii in the landing gear of the
plane. Everyone says he is lucky to be alive. I disagree. I think through
the right balance of temperature and sleep, anything is possible.

In the future I will carry a bouquet of flowers. I will visit a grave of a per-
son I don’t recognize. Other people visiting the cemetery will think
I’m leaving the flowers on the grave, understandably. It will begin to rain.



A mountain which has formed behind another mountain
watches a man covered in neon. Or else, the man is himself,
neon. The mountain watches him climb the other mountain,
his tiny body a dive bar for mosquitoes. Doesn’t this keep
you awake? the mountain asks the other mountain. No, the
other mountain says, before causing a rockslide.



Dalton Day is a trembling literal dog-person, Pushcart nominee, & MFA candidate in The New Writers Project at UT Austin. He is the author of the poetry collection Actual Cloud (Saló Press, 2015) & the chapbooks FAKE KNIFE (FreezeRay Press, 2015) & To Breathe I’m Too Thin (Hyacinth Girl Press, 2016). His poems have been featured in PANK, Columbia Poetry Review, Hobart, & Alien Mouth, & he can be found at myshoesuntied.tumblr.com & twitter.com/lilghosthands.