person James Diaz, one poem

James Diaz is the author of This Someone I Call Stranger (2018) and founding Editor of the Literary Arts & Music mag Anti-Heroin Chic. His work can be found in Occulum, Bone & Ink Press, Moonchild Magazine and Philosophical Idiot. He lives in upstate New York.


Oh Friend,

I am a banshee wailer
I am small details
the rain makes blurs of
each important little word
I meant to say
but instead
I am the silent type
sits in his suffering for days
and days

I want to wipe your slate clean
with my dirty hands
but what good am I at brand new starts
days linger on
and each beat
is faster than you’d expect
a heart to be
tearing its weird sister fingers
into your hollow neck line
the gas trace of stars
collecting in our bones

I make a soup of loss
and spoon feed the moon
in your lap, see, I love you
even when you disappear
I pick up the trail behind the 7-11
I go on foot
follow you there
just behind the southbound hurting tree
I come prepared
for you

and every wound
you own
is beautiful
to me.


7 thoughts on “person James Diaz, one poem

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