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1 Poem by Eric Wallgren

The Nightly Grind
​

Normally I’m tired of complaining
before I even start and now,
I’m exhausted. In the middle
 
of dragging a sleeping elephant by
the trunk across a river of sawdust 
and gold, I shatter. The moon curls 
 
below my feet and I feel—not total
comfort but not total discomfort--
something between mud trudging in
 
piercing frostbite and fucking in
the golden late morning. It’s at that
point now. I’m swearing off light 
 
because I know I’m about to fall into
a glassy pool and then at the surface,
it will happen again: I’ll step out into
 
the wide glowing night with a desire
to be hunted. Then when somebody
really does try and shoot, I’ll run.
 




Eric Wallgren is a writer and musician living in Chicago. His writing has appeared in Prelude, Entropy, Maudlin House, Queen Mob’s Teahouse, and elsewhere. His Last EP, The Flowing Burial Ground, was released via Midwest Action in 2019. He’s on Instagram @wallgrenspharmacy. 
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