R L Swihart was born in Michigan but now resides in Long Beach CA. (He just completed a “road trip” — from Long Beach to Michigan and back again — stopping at various wildlife sanctuaries along the way.) His work has sparsely dotted both online and print literary journals such as Cordite, Denver Quarterly, Pif, Poetry South, and Quadrant Magazine. His third book of poetry, Woodhenge, was released July 2020.
I’d been thinking about leaving. I’d been thinking how there’s something about out here. Before long it’s a new January and you’re hungover with a heartache for a man you won’t see for several years until he pops up on that very popular, critically-acclaimed sitcom with that actress you learned to like, then hate, then feign indifference abou
The leak in your breathing/ tube makes a cartoon squeak./ It takes two nurses, silent/ as nuns, to place you/ in my arms...
If I have already/ gone insane/ but I want to get/ crazier yet,/ what’s my move?/ Go outsane?
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