Jumping Roofs

By DAVID LIVEWELL

The younger junkies, for a thrill, would toss
Each other roof to rowhouse roof across
Thin alleyways of light, a game whose loss

Might match addiction. One slip and you’re there
Halfway and falling fast. They straddled air
With shrieks and crazed delight. We had to stare

To justify such suicidal play.
Our stomachs flipped. We couldn’t walk away
On the firm ground where heads might crack one day.

 

David Livewell is the author of Shackamaxon, winner of the 2012 T.S. Eliot Prize from Truman State University Press.

[Click here to purchase your copy of Issue 07]

Julia PikeJumping Roofs

Related Posts

Con

STEPHEN O'CONNOR 
We decided to start with a con. She was small, with blonde hair and an unidentifiable accent that gave her voice the warped vowels and ee-haw rhythms of a handsaw. She approached him on the footbridge, made a startled noise, and looked down.

Shadow on grass

Poetry by Iraqi Women in Translation

NADIA AL-KATIB
"Definitions"
My heart is a pear
your pocket can’t contain—
my heart is poorly
stored. It starts to rot.
My story? I’m a girl
tempted into
a wonderland.

poetry and democracy

April 2019 Poetry Feature: Jessica Lanay

JESSICA LANAY
We dampened the cool white sheets
throwing each other, knowing
we are both liars; we didn’t get
what we wanted: me—a chest
to shelter me for the night; you—
some reassurance that you had any
power at all in the world.
We awoke and love abandoned