# joshua ruffin
Today’s headline reads, “We Were Falling
“and Never Knew it.” You woke me to ask why
my bones were humming.
It’s a defense mechanism
against the possibility
I’m dreaming. Freehand
becomes war—my n’s careen
into m’s with little memory
of their former lives. To say a vote
was taken encompasses
everything taken is. A child,
a crayon drawing of summer.
The air brimming with half-birds.
“and Never Knew it.” You woke me to ask why
my bones were humming.
It’s a defense mechanism
against the possibility
I’m dreaming. Freehand
becomes war—my n’s careen
into m’s with little memory
of their former lives. To say a vote
was taken encompasses
everything taken is. A child,
a crayon drawing of summer.
The air brimming with half-birds.
post-election coverage joshua ruffin
The candleholder on the wall is missing
a spike. We light it when friends are over,
say Careful when you walk by.
At night I watch it dance
and wonder what’s behind me.
The sky
in its second week of grey
calls itself silver, magnesium,
blue. We try to pull it apart
into black and white but need
sleep. Still
it’s only a matter of time. Come
summer we’ll throw
open the windows, welcome the fire,
the light it gives us to read by.
a spike. We light it when friends are over,
say Careful when you walk by.
At night I watch it dance
and wonder what’s behind me.
The sky
in its second week of grey
calls itself silver, magnesium,
blue. We try to pull it apart
into black and white but need
sleep. Still
it’s only a matter of time. Come
summer we’ll throw
open the windows, welcome the fire,
the light it gives us to read by.
Joshua Ruffin received his MFA from Georgia College & State University, where he also taught as a graduate fellow. He has held jobs as a peach picker, trail crew worker, radio producer, and once filled in as a bouncer on what was thankfully a slow night. Joshua's work has appeared in Post Road, 491 Magazine, Booth, and elsewhere. He lives in Madison, WI.