3 Poems by Glen Armstrong [Poetry]

To Those Who Won’t Be Going

To invite you anywhere is to invite Carrie to the high school prom, but to leave you behind seems equally cruel.

The dust from the sidewalk twirls about in eddies. 

Ask your parents about Red Ball Jets and PF Flyers.

Ask your older sister about crying under the giant horse at P.F. Changs. 

I agree with your guidance counselor, at least in principle, that writing The Mars Volta fan fiction is a misuse of your talents.

It’s not uncommon to feel simultaneously gilded and gelded. 

Canvas shoes on a brisk autumn day are an underrated pleasure when worn without socks.

Chinese food signifies a celebration when eaten by those who have never been to China.


Among the Forgetters #68

In this dark room with no windows,

facial expressions 


are meaningless.

In this meaningless room

with windows,


the light


of a television



until sunrise. 

At that point we all live in a yellow



(superhuman) glow.

I only see sightless fish


in photographs,

and they only make a lasting impression

when I see the world 


through my skin,

when I begin to turn inward.

The idea


of thirty days and thirty nights

gives way to the rhythm


of hunger and contentment.


World’s Fair #7

Individuals may seem strange


Black eyes 

And black eyebrows


White hair

And two fingers


Respect in the form of a funnel


Horses and should

Men and women


The end of all babies’ faces

And the beginning


Of industry / of large flat tails / of diplomatic

Missions to the near


Licking the heart’s gravy

From a shirtsleeve 


Easily seen to be alien / wild 

Things reset to walk 


With never 

Individuals may count holes

On their fingers 


With an almost missionary



And miniature golf


And sugar spun


And gunfire off in the distance.



By Glen Armstrong

  • Glen Armstrong edits a poetry journal called Cruel Garters and has two new chapbooks: Simpler Times and Staring Down Miracles.

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