Poetry by Clem Flowers

                ​Gerry Dincher CC




Ollie Along the Frosted Night


& I drank the stars & the fireflies got me a halo & the abandoned strip of spent cigarettes & gas station soda cups wished me well & wished me joy & it was life & it was pain & it was centered ecstatic shock running in my soul & the wind just swooned along the faded farmhouse & ancient millstone that they keep out for the tourists that I'm now watching the night sky from & now the only light on the main drag of this high holy built on the foundation of callouses and early mornings on the dairy farms that now has me by the nape of my neck, resonating like a meditation bell where the slender dream with black nail polish & three rings on the top of his right ear & a stud with a skull on his nose left a love bite that left me catching my breath and my head swimming with the falling moon 

I dreamed of the one I wished to be

​


​Clem Flowers (They/ Them) is a poet, soft-spoken southern transplant, low rent aesthete, & dramatic tenor living in a mountain's shadow in Home of Truth, Utah.

Publication credits include: Olney Magazine, Blue River Review, The Madrigal, Pink Plastic House Journal, Bullshit Lit, Corporeal, Holyflea, Anti-Heroin Chic, & Warning Lines Magazine.

 Author of chapbooks Stoked & Thrashing (Alien Buddha Press) & Two Out of Three Falls (Bullshit Lit.)

Nb, bi, and queer as the day is long, living in a cozy apartment with their wonderful wife & sweet calico kitty. Found on Twitter @clem_flowers