BlazeVOX extra

Literary Prestidigitations on Display
Wednesday’s Poem - Alexis Ivy

Wednesday’s Poem - Alexis Ivy


Wednesday’s Poem

Wednesday is once again, anything can happen day. Every Wednesday BlazeVOX will feature, in our new BXtraordinary series, a poem from a new book, a short video poetry reading, a fiction story or anything else that seems relevant to the day. We will choose from one of the hundreds of titles of great works in the BlazeVOX catalog. Anything can happen, so tune in each week! Here’s today’s poem 


by Alexis Ivy

ISBN: 978-1-60964-105-4

Ream more here





Prison was the best thing

that’s happened to us.

When he wrote me,

You’re the prettiest,

I was, almost.


Couldn’t believe he had

an address. It’s not that bad,

I’m not that bad.  Seven years

in Cleveland for skipping bail.

I kept the stamp—wild horses

making tracks over clouds—

Sure, he apologized for Colorado.

We weren’t in Colorado.


He called collect from the pay phone

on the cell block wall. I told him,

You’re still breaking my heart— 

he didn’t seem to pay attention

to the pause in our conversation.

So I said, I’ll call you when I’m feeling

better. I said, My soup is getting cold.


He was the kind of guy who,

if I hadn’t answered, would never

try again.  But I always picked up. 

If I’d asked him to stop keeping in

touch, he would, though he was naked


enough, all uppercase and scrawling

full of sweat: I love your hair tossed

back kneeling over my face, your juices—

caged, he chose me.  And every time


he wrote, he was too serious

about my hands, he sized his

to mine, held them to his chest

and wouldn’t let go.

I liked that sad dynamic.

I’d never heard I love you

from a lover’s mouth before. 

I didn’t want him to mean that

much.  I never wrote back.