Poetry Issue 20:2


Jose Perez Beduya

Ad Hocalypse

In my slice of time
on the glacier, I danced and did

duets with holograms of the deceased
and slowly realized how empty

were the originals. Pellucid, I think
I’m a meme now.

In childhood, I was not
tilted long enough.

All week I work
in the nude, unless there suddenly appears

another driver of this ziggurat.
Out of boredom,

my peers summered
where they died. Even though they seem

like hills of rust the wind
wears down, I smell and feel them still

breathing by mysterious means.
I know this place is so unlike

tomorrow, having been incarcerated
there many times.

Animals shocked
in front of the eyes go forward

while animals shocked behind the eyes
go back is how I must have survived.