Lindsay Costello
Real Day
I usually describe it as a brick on my face
Or on my lungs
But it is the smell of fire on patriotic days,
All around.
I walked to the drugstore
And noted every single flower
And felt nothing,
My whole warm body weighted
By nothing.
The quiet cavity
Of my chest,
Soldered.
There are two spiders here, sleeping on the cusp of a drain
I’m waiting for the right time
To kill them both.
Poems by Lindsay Costello have appeared in Rue Scribe and SUSAN / THE JOURNAL. Her art criticism has appeared in Art Practical and 60 Inch Center. Costello holds a BFA in crafts from Oregon College of Art and Craft, where her thesis analyzed the conceptual intersections between poetry and weaving. She lives in Portland, Oregon.