STRIKE

This year is the year we drive around
and look for things burning in the distance.
Weigh a starfish. Make a wish. Write down
the number you get to before the phone rings. 

When you get to the ocean, remember that
at one point in time, we knew how to
properly take our pulse. It’s all one big 
fountain. I’ve thrown more pennies into the

street than I’ve spent. Last year, I answered
the phone, and it was you. I couldn’t
tell you what I’d eaten for lunch. I learned how 
to swim too late in life. I stand in the shower

with a match in my teeth and I can’t hear
the sound it makes. Isn’t that the best damn
thing, though? I wish to find a calendar I won’t
forget about this year. I wish to find

something worth cleaning the ash off of.


About Dalton Day:
Dalton Day is a poet from Asheville, North Carolina. He received his B.A. in Literature and Language from UNC Asheville, where he was also awarded the 2012 Topp/Grillot Poetry Prize. His work has appeared in Foxing Quarterly, decomP, Radius, and the forthcoming Heavy Feather Review, among others. He is a poetry editor for FreezeRay Poetry. His first chapbook, Supernova Factory, was released in May 2013 by On the Cusp Press. He can be found at myshoesuntied.tumblr.com.