POETRY
Forever
I’m not a broken heart
buried in 200 pounds of fat
I’m not a tomb adorned in Union wool
I’m not slime from the sea
atoms ejected by a cosmic sneeze from nowhere
I’m not a child of fear born of dog days
I’m something that never dies
something that lasts forever
something loved
All that love makes me sick and afraid
It must be true—
No finite grave of neurons could devise such a thing
Sinners in the Hands of a Hungry God
He hungered for figs, but found none
I put gall to His mouth instead
and devoured a plate of figs
that very night
I slept on the Sabbath
my belly full and aching
Bud Sturguess was born in the small cotton-and-oil town of Seminole, Texas. He has self-published several books, including the novels Sick Things and Coolidge, Indiana. His poetry and fiction appear in Ekstasis Magazine and Longleaf Review, among others.
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Artwork: Elohim creating Adam (1795) by William Blake. Public Domain.
Heart of Flesh Literary Journal 