divine magnet





Jon Ruseski


Cool Night

I open my phone

exactly at midnight

a nice light

I really need you

there’s no room

for being and nothingness

the wires

don’t stand a chance

against me

eating these salted peanuts

I sent you

one perfect text

and I wanted the night

to stay that way



The world is pink and fleshy

and safe for noise,

where sometimes a smiley face

is the only thing to say.

Tomorrow the nonsense

also kind of wonders

what’s going on.

The sunlight leans toward a place

where ghosts sext with the real,

and as usual, I’m charmed.

Stay here,

inscrutable sparkle,

tell me more.

Something fierce

and wild and impossible to doubt.

Keep Byron out of this.

Let the moon hurl.

Art will keep up.

All the faces are here

and time passes

among everyday sums.

The air in Massachusetts

October 6, 2014 3:54 PM.

The past gets longer.

Back there, I played baseball.

Craig jumped out of the car

because he was in love.

It’s so hard to know what you feel,

but still, don’t die the old way.



a Wednesday




car ride in the sun

so drift away

then tear

rub the poem

until the genie smokes out

you can rhyme a moment

with itself


it doesn’t always work

but when it does

the wheel lifts

sometimes I just show up grinning

caw madly

into the blinding color

to clarify:

everyday I feel the burn

of wanting to get it right

movies to watch

and firmness to lose

with splendor

beneath the neon clouds

when the spirals

make sense

like you are them or something

or how else

can I come close

to the work the night does

allowing Dave to drink my beer

instead of his