Jack Sullivan: Standing at the Edge of the World

Stefan Kunze

In The Bar At The Train Station

I am home. I am not home. I am

Standing at the edge of the world.

Or

I am sitting in the bar at the station.

I’ve been on the road, but now I’m off it,

Briefly.

Haunting the edges of the picture

I used to be central to. I feel ill. This whiskey

Makes me feel

Fine. As August ends, I circle back

To all the things I could have done

With my return.

The boys I could have kissed. The boys

I haven’t seen since grade school. I don’t miss

Their presence, but still.

Everyone’s grown taut and full. Trees

Verdant and green with allure.

Fuck ‘em.

I can hear myself, a shifting pool

Of air, moving through them

like something ancient.

From the depths of the station, I wonder:

If I stop moving, do we lose

All sound?

I feel old. I don’t seem old. I

Should stop thinking.

My voice is spun.

I put my eye to the rim

Of my glass, failing to freeze

Myself in amber.

---

Jack Sullivan is a multidisciplinary artist from Illinois. He graduated Sarah Lawrence College, where he concentrated in International Relations. After graduation he lectured for a year at Chongqing University of Arts and Sciences in southwest China. Some of his poetry can be found or is upcoming in In Parentheses and Ilya's Honey. Currently he is studying to receive his M.F.A. in Screenwriting at Brooklyn College.