Josh Stewart is a Mississauga writer whose work has appeared or is forthcoming in Carousel, Existere, ditch, The White Wall Review, The Nashwaak Review, Jones Av, and others. His chapbook Invention of the Curveball was released with Cactus Press in 2008.
words wrinkle and twist static through bruised wires,
as the gap between transmission and reception stretches,
our breathing deepens and this connection gives us nothing
but faint, echoing signals -- like nerves gone numb
not enough to keep us going.
do we return to the comforting loss of
the dial tone, memory turned to rust,
and the final confession missing in this tangled coupling.
somewhere in your voice there is an apology for
the distance between our dreams and our lives
our visions not colliding
the illusions we cherished dissolving like a murmured goodbye
spoken thoughtlessly before the click of disconnection.
Blazon For Language
words fray like tendons rubbed against the smooth
tendrils of ragged meaning, intersection of joints,
a fluttering tongue snaps uneasy bones of vague significance
syllables in the air like an ex-ray’s haunting glow.
then there is connection between the body’s symmetry and
dense, unyielding folds of substance, new constellations emerge in
language rising to clarity like a face breaking
the surface, a sudden smile.
despite the shift in meaning, the bruises punctuating skin
there is no doubt the gaps remind us of sacrifices made
between feeling and expression and the wounds that words inflict are
beginning to fade like old scars,
sentiment and grievance.