1 Poem by Michael Bernstein

that March...


...that day
in the freeze:
haunted,gone.
doors out to
bare earth,
coughs in the
lenscap Dark.
the cups they
hold boil&
float each
time you
speak,give it
away.its kind
of like being
a doctor,you
said.hands ra-
ttle windows,
surging,little
cinders revved
for lack of
heat.w/cents
left,we seek
the last close
sea:endless,
poorly-drawn,
livid in the
dead storm
light


Micheal Bernstein is the author of two chapbooks. His work appears in numerous magazines. He currently edits the online lit magazine Pinstripe Fedora.