Two Poems by Scott Wordsman and a Photo by Joshua Didriksen



Photo by Joshua Didriksen
Photo by Joshua Didriksen


Despite my aversion,
I am an American.
There are eight or so
orifices in my body
all screaming me.
I have never not
known war. I have
never not been
safe from war.
In this country,
it is almost impossible
to live comfortably
and righteously.
It is easy
to work yourself
to death and not
realize you are working
yourself to death.
That is the dream.
This is voluble enterprise.
There is nothing ruptured
that can’t be soothed
in the break room,
where the chairs
have been replaced
with yoga balls
and all your friends
are all aboard.

Poem with Feelings

So rarely do I approach the world
as if it doesn’t have a lesson
to etch into my skin. Say the
weatherman knows which way
the wind’ll sway. Say the proctologist
admits he took this job for the shits.
The embarrassing thing is to imagine
yourself as someone’s instructor
forever. I guess that’s what father-
hood is sort of about. No tenure,
just an impending sense of always.
You wake up to cries and don’t
realize they’re yours. You fall
asleep to a too-loud TV. But
I’m doing my best, you think
you hear yourself say. And
that’s enough until it isn’t.

Scott Wordsman‘s work has appeared in The Rumpus, Colorado Review, THRUSH, BlazeVOX, Forklift/Ohio, and elsehwere. He’s been nominated for Best of the Net and Best New Poets. Scott teaches at LIM College in Manhattan.

Joshua Didriksen is a photographer and designer from Jersey City. His work has been featured in a number of small press journals, including Reality Beach, Super Kings, and The Charleston Anvil. More Joshua Didriksen can be found at