Nate Pritts

Assignment Problem

The shadows of my fingers get confused
when I’m typing, just like in my head
where I keep messing up.  The disasters

are pretend but much larger than life
& the fall out blooms like a puff
ball spread out to create a new radiant

backyard of yellow debris.  I start out
to say one thing & say something else.
The question of the apple

in the bowl made of newsprint turns into a lesson
on how to hold together.  Precious metals
anchor your hand made only out of skin.

My eyes fall into the grooves of this
morning in the morning; my napkin
unused while the coffee supply dwindles.

The air isn’t cool & the light
isn’t ready.  I lodge them both in my heart.
The cactus on the window sill,

stuffed full of water.
One thousand needles.  All the beauty
I’ve seen has been mostly by accident.

Without Blinking

Nate Pritts

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