Robert Okaji holds a BA in history, and was recently diagnosed with stage four metastatic lung cancer. He lives, for the time being, in Indianapolis, and his work has recently appeared in Southern Humanities Review, Shō Poetry Journal, Stone Circle Review, Only Poems and elsewhere.
While on an evening walk, we see two dogs mating in an abandoned lot full of tall grass. Holding your hand in mine I look up at the moon looking like a coin caught between two cypress trees. I wonder
beyond the trees as far as i can see there’s a small duck i’ve been waiting for. i tell the duck my name, who i am. it probably doesn’t remember, but that’s fine. i remind myself that when you find an
Star of this soreness I laugh myself awake, sling deep into the heave. Straight out of dirt road walking and at capacity—this being the back-alley way; the heartbreak; the running away constantly. Int