Stephen Lefebure has been published mostly west of the Mississippi, and in places that leave more than one color of mud on your boots. His passion is for the stories told by the face of the earth. For that one need not always go far; it is perhaps more important to go deep.
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?
See more Poetry, Visual Poetry, or Postcard Prose
