ISSUE  1   2   3   4   SUBMIT

Mark My Words

Lori Lubeski

If I’m found out


         to be illiterate

an idiot


         greedy thieving teen


from dumpsters



continually desiring




like the boy I was



if they notice


         my squalor,


         my pallor


deviant being


politely embarrassed




I’ll call to you


         from my fright



         I’ll tell you with dignified charm


my subtest scores


         significant discrepancy


my point spread



                  my majority



I’ll qualify


my darkened




                  while escaping


         deafening calls


from beyond                      what I was





you’ll recognize where I’ve been


         you’ll deem me




I’ll throw a flower to you


from my float in the parade



         I’ll toss your child






I’ll wait for you after


                  for our momentary





from merciless


                           internal critics


in our polite dialog


we’ll exchange glances


of equivalencies




         the subterfuged morning afterhour


         of identity



spark of recognition



in your brightening eyes