1

Screams hugged rubber
prisons, pushed inside
and out. Cannot float
away, your air full. Drunk
on latex. Releasing pressure,
balloons surge inside
walls of arteries, restores
proper blood flow to brains.
Brains to flow blood
proper restores arteries
of walls inside surge
balloons pressure releasing
latex on drunk full air
you’re away. Float
cannot out and inside
pushed prisons rubber
hugged screams.

2

A mirror above the sink says
to brush my eyes and comb my teeth
stalking my illusion inside silver lakes.

Mildew weeps and candles ache
lemon, plum, and vomit
with mold fondling the edges.

Fog scratches my stitches
their whispers clamor
through the ether, crowds escape.

Mildew weeps and candles ache
lemon, plum, and vomit
when Jesus shatters the cloud.

Follow your beliefs, your hand, a dial
to which a child asks, Who’re you talkin’ to?
and I said, “Jesus, but he fell down a tile.”

Where mildew weeps and candles ache
lemon, plum, and vomits
that Jesus chose me, I’m special

“Of course you are,” Jesus said, “don’t believe
doctors.” Stay, but Jesus shrugs goodbye
and glass scatters drops of Jesus on the floor.

3

Billy doesn’t like hospitals, but
Momma insists that they visit
Pappy’s heart surgery and crazy
Uncle Philip who forgot to take his pills
again. Billy just wants to play Jesus,
fisher of men, on his Gameboy.

After several years in the military, Kyra Enby came out as non-binary. They are an author of fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. They live where the Platte and Missouri Rivers meet with their wife and kids. They hold a BFA in creative writing from the University of Nebraska at Omaha, and their work has appeared in Menacing Hedge, Spank the Carp, Danse Macabre, The Door is a Jar, and other journals and anthologies.