Alex Carrigan
“Phasmid”
You have been here much longer than I have.
I look over your form, see the intricacies
of each joint and limb that emerges from the reeds,
and I stand still as runoff.
I see how you bend and sway with the reeds,
how your eyes force me to see the
man I have become.
How I drained color from my skin with
each flushing of alcohol.
How I filled bags under my eyes with
numerous evenings of restless sleep.
How I grew my facial hair so I could
try to resemble the heroes of the past
and hopefully be someone’s hero in the future.
I can’t see the beauty in your eyes,
but my eyes encourage you to
call me a miracle.
You’re the one who remained
lost in the reeds, but inspired
poems and reports of your grandeur.
You looked at this disheveled shlub
and envisaged me on a mural
painted on a tenement.
This was after I long assumed
all the walls of town would crumble
before I could be emblazoned.
I don’t know why you’ve allowed me
to reach out to you. My calloused hands
can graze over your limbs,
feel each hair and bend of your joints.
This is the one time we’ll be able
to share this love for one another.
I might forget you the next time I take a drink.
I hope you don’t forget me once you settle in the reeds.
After Disco Elysium
Alex Carrigan (he/him) is a Pushcart-nominated editor, poet, and critic from Alexandria, VA. He is the author of Now Let’s Get Brunch: A Collection of RuPaul’s Drag Race Twitter Poetry (Querencia Press, 2023) and May All Our Pain Be Champagne: A Collection of Real Housewives Twitter Poetry (Alien Buddha Press, 2022). He has appeared in The Broadkill Review, Sage Cigarettes, Barrelhouse, Fifth Wheel Press, Cutbow Quarterly, and more. Visit carriganak.wordpress.com or follow him on Twitter @carriganak for more info.
