Poetry
Revenant
John T. Leonard
issue two.
Blue in breath, tar pit swimming lessons unfinished,
the invisible salt of your palm was the flavor of fortune.
Gun to the temple of nature, pulled trigger of freedom,
you would steal the pelvis of God for enough money
to not have to think about these things. You would crush
diamonds into powder and make your grandma snort it.
And now, a glowing green light emanating from the keyhole.
You know your price.
Pull back now, geese lay like darts at the roadside,
dead and frozen—You notice the true shape of things,
Land Rover exhaust grinning, it’s the same face that welds
steel cages for migrant children. You’d rather sink an island
than feel this time slipping, rather kill a pedestrian than care.
All of our myths, written about forces we don’t understand.
And now, a glowing green light emanating from the keyhole.
About the Author
John T. Leonard is an award-winning writer, educator, and managing editor of 42 Miles Press and The Glacier. He holds an M.A. in English from Indiana University. John’s poems have been published in Chiron Review, December Magazine, North Dakota Review, Ethel Zine, Louisiana Literature, Jelly Bucket, Painted Bride Quarterly, Tipton Poetry Journal, Qu Literary Magazine, Hole in The Head Review, Nimrod International Journal, The Indianapolis Review, Two Hawks Quarterly, and The Emerson Review, and many others. John was the 2016 inaugural recipient of the Wolfson Poetry Award, the 2018 recipient of the Josephine K. Piercy Memorial Award, and the 2019 recipient of the David E. Albright Memorial Award and Hatfield Merit Award. He lives in Elkhart, Indiana with his wife, son, cat, and dog. You can connect with him on Instagram @jotyleon, @theglacierjournal, and @42milespress.
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