Pixels and Voxels
Someone is emailing me under the pretense
of my father's ghost. Inbox (3) - I FORGOT HOW TO
SMILE / HAS ANY COUNTRY ACHIEVED NUCLEAR
PROLIFERATION? / I AM ALWAYS WALKING
TOWARDS A BONFIRE IN THE SNOW.
Now, when my phone vibrates, I turn it off
and unplug the router and flip every switch
in the circuit breaker. I need darkness to mean
what it used to: no Roku light, no microwave
clock, no Amazon Echo. I need the clouds
to say NOTHING MATTERS EXCEPT YOUR TONGUE
AND THE HOPE OF OTHER TONGUES.
I have never answered the emails, but I read them
until each letter is an xy coordinate, until my phone
is not an xy coordinate; the color of its innards
only exist if I don't look.
Jerrod Schwarz is an MFA graduate and the managing poetry editor for Driftwood Press. His work has appeared in PANK, The Fem, Cultured Vultures, and many other print/online magazines. Jerrod lives in muggy, swampy Florida where he is currently teaching his twin daughters how to ward off 99% humidity and the constant swarm of mosquitoes.