Question & Answer 2 – Logan February

Question 2

I keep sending people
black and white photos
of bioluminescence,
and forgetting nobody
gives a shit about the day
I swallowed my weight
in acid rain so I could
wash his stench from
my jeans and his sweat
from my lips. What days
do you keep remembering
even though you want
to forget? I went deaf
for weeks too, Logan,
covered my ears in sheet
music and learnt to play
my tears in the wrong key.

– Aaron Kent

Answer 2

I, too, wear my trauma on my lips,
then go around kissing crooked boys

who don’t have names. Yes, I’m
that good at forgetting. Once, I went mad

& didn’t tell anyone. What was I to say?
A hemorrhage, but also not. My eyes

bloodshot, my head swimming. I was
high on mania, what a scene I made.

A body cascading off a pinnacle, with all
the grace in the world. So clean & slow.

So I kept it to myself, found a boy
to hold my memories. Left so much

smoke in his hands, right there outside.
Everyone was watching. I didn’t care,

I gave him my trauma & made him sing.
& when I danced, I danced in the rain.

I’m sorry you didn’t get to hear the music.
I danced until I had my back pressed

against the fogged glass of the windows.
Somehow, the boy went missing & took

my song with him, & despite all of their
eyes, the people were as shocked as me.

– Logan February


Question & Answer 1 – Logan February

Question 1

How do you
……..find yourself
……………………your weaknesses?

I arrived with the dolphins,
……………………held together by relief.

I embodied all those weaknesses,
……..locked my fears away
…………….with the paramedics
……………………burning all my bridges

-Hollis, F-

on the wrong side of the road.

– Aaron Kent

Answer 1

Let me be precise & say some burning
bridges are certain of their brilliance.

I’ve seen a spine shake its shadow
as though it were a blanket being tackled

with legs. Lighter fluid crawling over
each swell & dip, with a burn stalking the trail.

& so what, if the water under the bridge
starts to boil. Twist spine / contort.

A flurry of birds, evacuated. The immolation
keeping me bright, marvelous, then gone.

My weakness grows upon the engulfed spine,
so I cannot look it in the eyes. Which is to say

it has eyes / has ears / & a mouth, frothing
with boiled river. I become vapor / become

victim / never hearing anything / about fear.
So I arch neck / contort / go deaf for weeks.

The song stays banished & the smoke
keeps close & familiar.

– Logan February