by Ali A. Ünal

I refuse to name the animals I invent
part human, part baby kicks
established gods make fun of me
for having the beasts parse the music
or invent time before fire.

My brutes gnaw their chains into glyphs
escalating, escalating and
sinking in mud as opposed to gravity
or remembering forbidden falls
out of bliss, not of mild suicide.

Before the council of wizened lords
in the middle of death and debt
they bet on themselves out loud
jumping off worlds to split infinities
as far as the heart goes.

Then they learn how to celebrate the poet
in a language I know nothing of.

Ali A. Ünal is a writer from Turkey. He arrived in the USA with a fellowship to study creative writing at University of Massachusetts, Amherst. His essays and stories have appeared in Willow Springs, Apogee, Third Coast, Quarterly West, Jersey Devil Press, and Necessary Fiction as well as in his native Turkish. He’s been longlisted on The Wigleaf’s Top 50 Very Short Fictions 2021. After earning his Ph.D. in English from University of Louisiana at Lafayette, he teaches creative writing at Central Washington University.