From Issue 17: My Dark Whistle

Charles Kell
starts to hum
this way when my belly
full of glass
becomes unbearable.
The grey wrens fly
fast into the near-
est dark hole
& your pretty mirror
dissolves into a float-
ing pile of wet sand.
The only way
to make me stop
is to nail a pencil
to my hand. The sky
starts to crack
when I lick my lips.
Quick, the hammer.
Charles Kell is a PhD student at The University of Rhode Island and editor of The Ocean State Review. His poetry and fiction have appeared in The New Orleans Review, The Saint Ann’s Review, Kestrel, The Pinch, and elsewhere. He teaches in Rhode Island and Connecticut.