Unclosed Circle

Jesse Miksic


Perimeter, you are a hungry muzzle
Asking through tooth grit
Blood saliva, oh mother,

Isn’t it about time
To walk back the world?

As here, as everywhere,
As every sidewalk is the same
(Oh father curb
To bite the toes)

But the ritual that we cast
Those thin and bare-bodied
Flaunting days, it was
Entirely incomplete, a circle
Left unclosed.

There are many suburbs
In my chest, I suppose,
Many red front doors,
Many loops around the
Cul de sac, this thing

Is a hungry muzzle
Barely out of reach,
And finally, on my lips,
The promise:

More days to feed.
More mouths to burn.





Jesse Miksic is a graphic designer and writer living in the suburbs of Philadelphia. He spends his life writing poetry, waiting patiently for nightfall, and having adventures with his wonderful wife and two children. Recent placements include Green Ink Poetry, Pink Plastic House, Moist Poetry, and Roi Fainéant Literary Press. His work and musings can be found at @miksimum on Twitter and Instagram, or www.miksimum.com.