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Volume 14 • Number 1 • Spring-Summer 2022

Dan Sicoli

radio at the end of the world

rainy nights this car rides cranky transmission the airwaves intermittently penetrate the blankness as wipers intermittently soothe glass a change of perception smoke rises beyond trees this car idles transmission the distant sound full of knocking the dial turns static


this town where every server’s nametag reads mildred and old vets hobble out with coffee breath and had ceased howling years ago still refusing submission to any god, cloth, or monument this town where graveyards are overgrown fields under a sky lacking swagger this is a town where midnight aspires flames to mature until sirens blow open the calm of the sleep-induced this spot on ceiling grows with a drip drip and low gurgle this sluggish staining ever sullying color this town where every car is bandaged where bumper stickers pass as knowledge this town where almost empty is good enough where nearly done is a dream fulfilled where insects goad the exterminators this town beaten blue this town a blood myth exploited where one lives under foreshadowed memories where ghosts vacate sin sift the streets and it’s always trash collection day

Dan Sicoli authored two chapbooks from Pudding House Publications, Pagan Supper and the allegories and co-edits Slipstream. Recent credits include Ethel Zine, Nerve Cowboy, Blue Collar Review, and Book of Matches. He oven roasts and bottles home-grown tomatoes in late summers. On weekends when the virus permits, he beats on an old Gibson in a garage rock band in Niagara Falls, NY. <>.