AUTUMN MACKErEL
streaks
across sunset oranges swirled with coldwater tourmaline sea sizzles irritated
scorching around his scales its own Olympic flame not
strangled
in a smoke watercolor cloak
impish like a 2D animated bonfire
he suspires listlessly between whiny slime
seaweed clumps his nonapparent journey to his Yeti Crab comrade
mudstone fragments fling
attempt to crush
but Autumn Mackerel enjoys
the way the rocks flirt with his fizzing fins’ tips
he eventually finds himself by a tektite hydrothermal
vent belonging to Yeti Crab
between them: subtle lament
floats in carbon dioxide bubbles
flouting their eyes
the daylit sky cant focus on the miry dirt so why should we
why cant dirt become the new sky
Ennui contentment
When I take my future children to see the Kanazawa Gardens, green nudity basking in a bath of sunlight next to an asymmetrical rock worn by the algae speck pond, and they respond with, “this is underwhelming,” I will tell them “yes, it is,” that nothing will ever live up to the festered emotions planted into us by saturated pictures on travel sites, influencers walking through filtered mirages, that finding the kineticness in a static picture is my definition of contentment.
TO NOT CRUSH
To not crush
If I could become any element
I would become transparent
and clean, soothingly
vast for you to sprawl through
relishing to gasp in
to become the gusts ruffling
tips of your chestnut hair
the space between our blood cells
whispered out our lips, learning
what it feels like to fill your lungs and fuel
your tongue: I could learn
what it is to love, but definitions
are meaningless if definition
changes direction
so you can call me air
your dog air
your plant nursery air
your coffee pot air
your faded quilt air
the sun itself air
whomever air
whatever air
wherever air
GILLIAN LIONBERGER studies in the heart of her Appalachian culture at Hollins University’s MFA program. Her inspiration for little objects that lovingly-clutter hearts, tapping into the concreteness of languages, and meditations on humanity spread across both prose, poetry, and non-fiction.