Antonyms for "Grit"
I reread your letter
by the light of a monitor
streaming the Coen brothers’
True Grit, and your methodical ways
of asking me to love you
make better sense now.
It was as fine a blending of texts
as my desktop has seen in quite some time.
Your world is no less fragile,
the window no less open.
The heart swings in the head’s noose.
I have considered the soles
of your shoes, and may I say
that the minimal wear impresses me
with its balance of worldly
and funerary qualities.
Artwork by Zeffrey, for Glen Armstrong's Antonyms for "Grit"
Artwork by Zeffrey, for Glen Armstrong's Cineplex
Cineplex
The world explodes
as my body reclines.
The drink holder steadies a giant cup.
What gets projected
on the screen doesn’t matter much.
It’s all about the seats.
What sticks seems to be Pepsi.
Maybe the sequel
will clean things up a bit.
What hits the fan
doesn't smell that bad,
which should have been my first clue.
Pity the billionaire
who becomes a vengeful robot,
or sing along with his theme song,
the one we sang
when our own bodies could slip
through turnstiles
made of napalm and flags.
Glen Armstrong (he/him) holds an MFA in English from the University of Massachusetts, Amherst and edits a poetry journal called Cruel Garters. His poems have appeared in Conduit, Poetry Northwest, and Another Chicago Magazine.
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