Nick Patten  © 2008 All Rights Reserved

The Breakup

We live in its aftermath, sweat. “Look at that fiery field, will you. Was it always smoldering between us?” asks the truck driver when he gets home. Each chair leans back into its own uncertainty, drifts. “Cleave, cleave, babe,” says the woman holding an ax, cradling kindling in her free arm. We make our way toward each other, the floor swelling. “We’re smaller than our smallest desire, burnished bauble that it is,” the lonely fire marshal tells his date. “We’re balloons in the mouths of birds,” she tells him.

Jordan Sanderson
Copyright © 2008

 

Originally from Hattiesburg, Mississippi, Jordan Sanderson lives in Auburn, Alabama. His work has appeared in Parthenon West Review, Valparaiso Poetry Review, and Mad Hatters Review, among other journals.


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