4 poems from Zack Sternwalker

Zack Sternwalker writes and draws. He has work at www.debutantehair.com and a blog at www.debutantehair.blogspot.com.

To be here and suck summers again

I know a paper dealer whose hands just want to say you’re still a connection calling out on my face down a lump of actual charcoal
and I know that the smell would never be combined with the feel of our beautiful flesh
when I don't even want to get inside and say I'm immortal feeling
like some kind of sock laying over a desk
in the middle of the place where normally at least the last few cars find some solace.

The real nativity of the distance like some field or suddenly brewed naked release

I saw a set of easy flowing star shaped knowledge
its belief of pure adrenaline pumped through a thousand forests
for lovingly held bosoms and at a creek’s reach or crib’s napalm anus
a shingle that at least could be the same as my night
with some pink asteroid sofa in his wheeze feature
still more emblematic of the gravity on a beach wanderers skull.

Counting gristle splinters in the unsheathed lightning of cereuses

Just look at its various lights probably from the soft splashes of a few digesting kernels
if I could find the cool workings of a request for larger and more thrice
like a drippy north closet floating for some secure bubble steps
deposits where a giant of some roadsters look like oh we forgot
but even with a cheese shaped warmth they fall together to insist on actual rabies.

The long held out song of my string going over the skyline with some sunsets

Growing floating feather bubbles of escaped brain penises
withered in castles of armpit orchestra tunnel sky
knees like bloated windows watching dark while the morning takes
in porches
lowered go to shielding in his half imagination past
the realness of death with a sleepy drone arm bristling to scrape up asteroids.