(not quite) a literary journal


A bench at the Lincoln Park Zoo remembers us, by Sad Girl no last name

A bench at the Lincoln Park Zoo remembers us
i sit close to the edge because i’m afraid that otherwise, You’ll kiss me
Because, Your knee is touching mine and
You are leaning back and
Your arm is laying across the top of the bench.
Your legs are spread apart, with one knee against mine, while
You tell a kinky story about a girl from your internship

This is Your neighborhood
at Your mom’s house we smoked weed
i sat on Your childhood bed and
i saw Your comic books
You took me to a hookah bar, where
You bought peach champagne, which
i think is disgusting.

i have nothing to say, so
i listen to You
talk about music, the city, people that You know
You probably think i’m not very bright and
that i’m a little boring, because
i grew up in the suburbs

While we jaywalk, i think
it’s too busy to cross this way.

You walk in front of a green light
You don’t even hesitate
i know that You are smart and
i think that You are disarming and
Cool and
Also, that you, are arrogant and
i hypothesize that we both know that
You are better than i am.

You suggest we go to the Lincoln Park Zoo, even though
it’s too dark to see anything.
i say “alright”
we find a bench and
You start to talk, about
a girl from Your internship
And, You never try to kiss me

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art by Stephen R. Spencer II