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Poetry: "A Glacier Like The Face Of An Old Farmer" by Ian Brunner

T/W - Suicide

remembers the past and will see the future.

How things turn, and yet,

stay the same.

A gash on a forehead. Blood on the rocks.

Plunging into the river like Black Tuesday.

We forget the steps the future will trace.

Not too far, there is (will be) a party.

A band plays. The people dance while

a man attempts to take his life with

the blade of a pencil sharpener.

And yet,

the water flows.

Time is fical, forgetting

even those wrongly imprisoned.

Only a pickled head knows the truth, but

it will never be reunited with its body.

The world’s size stays the same, even

when room must be made for “progress”.

Ian Brunner is a fiction writer and poet from Buffalo, New York who is currently residing in Atlanta, Georgia. His work has been featured in various journals and zines. Most recently in Rudderless Mariner, Selcouth Station, Ghost City Press, and Sledgehammer Press. He is the author of the chapbook: Ruminations (CWP 2017) and has a forthcoming essay in The Comics Cabinet.

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