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Issue #2: Poetry

Adam Knight


I’ve been to Morocco and Tunisia.
My mother breastfed me until Niagara Falls
at age two. Sorry I missed your letter
addressed to the Knoxville Hilton, but I was in
Germany, watching soccer in Cologne, looking
at the churches. I have never been west
of the Mississippi. I have never been
south of the peanut stand on 41st Street.
But I loved Paris and Prague and you, yes you
even when you went abroad for four months,
even when I slept on a roof in Brooklyn
in the arms of an Icelandic beauty who fed me
light and Philip Glass. I don’t believe in God,
I believe in India with its one billion mouths
and four billion arms. I believe in Samsonite
and old media. I believe every word
of the journal you sent me, every page blank
except for your proclamation on the spine.
You sleep with your lies and I’ll sleep with mine.

Adam Knight is a theater director and writer living in New York City.  His plays Exposium and Stab Me, Why Don't You? were produced by Slant Theater Project.  His poems have appeared in The Evansville Review and Astropoetica.  He is a graduate of the University of Evansville in Indiana.
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