July 6, 2010

John Tustin


Angels with nothing but death
in their profoundly beautiful eyes.
A bullet with your name
on it.
Maybe hit by a car.
A heart attack while shoveling snow.
Then no more need for bread or air
or forward movement.
And your grandchildren will forget you
and their children will never know your name.
And you will think that now is not the time
to go because
you were finally learning something
but you lie.


John Tustin's work has appeared in various magazines online and in print, and is forthcoming in The Homestead Review, tinfoildresses and The Medulla Review. He says he is married with two perfect children and a soul-crushing job in sales and menial labor.

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