Address / Current

Dear Juden of Grodno asking to stay


where have all my enemies gone


put the kettle on

for gentle something in my veins

tangential to gunpoint

bloodier than blood


like light sneaks down

through seams in your roof

splits open

your workbench-bent head


motes hover over you

seeming to be wholly



wings roped to your back

your bones prayed hollow


the language

of the numinous


mercy a tailwind

effervescence escape


what deference what violence


separates you

from church and state


what straps you

into this grease-grimed place


I settle for bricks

made of fact


they build their chimneys

they weigh your lack


you slipped away

too long ago to say why


am I here


where did you go

on that god-shat train        //


I cant           I can’t


keep quiet dear reader


it is a new 2000


I am in Massachusetts


shit-faced in the woods

with friends


I grow compressed and morose


we don’t know

I have disappeared


into citizenship

and scarlet trail

of letters and land-lines


I am driven



I wink whitely

at lifeguards



hassled but whole


swim shirt still tucked in



I doze off

on the sunset lawn

small town music

headphones on


where have all my enemies gone


some people are into time

some people are thrown


down open heir


dear there there

dear then then then


Benjamin J. Brezner

Benjamin J. Brezner received his MFA in Creative Writing from George Mason University, where he received the 2017 Outstanding Graduate Student Award and edited poetry for Stillhouse Press. His work has been published or is forthcoming in Vallum, The Dalhousie Review, Whiskey Island, burntdistrict, and DistrictLit, among others, and has been featured on The Inner Loop podcast. He recently moved from Washington, DC to Toronto, ON, where he lives with his wife, cats and a beautiful newborn baby.