David LaBounty

the death of the first and last draft

she flips
the suitless
cards
& asks
the mouthy
gods
for answers

he takes
the
bottle cap
& weaves
it through
his fingers
the way a
bored
dealer
plays
with an
impotent
chip

all the while

the tv
plays
songs
without
tunes
as the
magic
rises
like a
fireless
smoke
&
drifts
its way
back to
heaven

as if
the magic
was told
to hurry up

& get its ass
back home

CP

Poet and novelist David LaBounty has held jobs as a miner, a mechanic, a reporter and a salesman. His third novel, Affluenza, was published in 2009. He lives in Michigan.

David LaBounty

April 27th, stopped at a light

a suburban junction
without a crosswalk, he

has empty hands, a

shirt and tie,
creased slacks
and wingtips
scuffed but new, he

looks both ways,
crosses the street, his

thin body leaning
into the wind that
blows the part in his

grey & thinning hair, his

gait is hurried,
awkward,
his right foot
at a 30 degree angle, and

I can tell by the walk
&
by the way the wind
throws his tie over his
shoulder that

there isn’t a lot
of money
in
whatever it is
he’s doing.

CP

David LaBounty lives in Michigan. His work has appeared in Night Train, Boston Literary Magazine, Word Riot, the New Plains Review, and others. His third novel, Affluenza, has just been released.

David LaBounty

a poem about nature

October, the

air outside
is blowing
cold, blowing

beautiful
dead leaves
in the smoky
scented air
while the

air inside
is warmed
by the color
TV, is warmed
by the box
of pizza
simmering
on the lonely
kitchen counter
along with

the three beers
inside my
stomach as
the football
on the TV
plays, as my
pants are
tight and
my face is
red but it’s

autumn, no

reason to
look good
or
feel bad.

CP

David LaBounty lives in Michigan. His work has appeared in Night Train, Boston Literary Magazine, Word Riot, the New Plains Review, and others. His third novel, Affluenza, has just been released.