Two Poems by Steve McGouldrick and a Collage by Jen May



Collage by Jen May
Collage by Jen May

Hermitage, PA

Novocain, bathwater hands glowing

in the interstate; passing an American

anytown of granite constellations,

lymph node greens and grays, catching

hallelujahs out of the pastel sky.


Idling on Buck Drive, she lights

a cigarette, blow smoke up into

the signal of new beautiful radio

handing above us.


An old person dies with memories

and achievements she says, plucking

a junebug out of her ponytail. But kids

like us die with opportunities. 



Alliance, OH

She tries to coagulate, become a river.


I like reflections she says, mistaking stars

for airplanes with her hands stretched out

into an improvised crucifixion. I like

the commentary written on my arms. 


When we were seventeen we stood

on the edge of a mountain, reaching

over the lip to catch fireflies in our teeth.

I watched lightning climb up from

the earth, become a never-ending,

claw its way through the hazard lights

into a strato-cumulous desire. I wanted

to be heroic, to cannonball my way

into sainthood.


Steve McGouldrick is from a dying steel town in Western Pennsylvania. He hosts a radio program on weekends and has had work appear in Metazen, Radioactive Moat, Pear Noir and elsewhere.

Jen May is a Scorpio and artist living in Brooklyn, NY with 3 cats. She keeps a tumblr updated regularly with horoscope images and everything else.