Saturday, May 3, 2014

A Poem by Chad W. Lutz

Summer Sore 
Shriek bang! Shriek bang!
A few persons clap.
Children chase each other in stir-crazy games of tag
under a mid-summer drizzle.
Shriek bang!
A couple of the kids stop to watch
and then continue their merciless quest of tagging each other “it.”
A young writer, alone,
leans against a public restroom; cold beer
warming in his left hand with his other in his pocket.
He’s beginning to feel a little inebriated,
perhaps a bit too drunk.
His legs begin to numb, finally.
The previous days' runs through the Smokies,
up and over Rich Mountain through a series of storms and bridle trails,
still reminding him with each leaden step.
His clothes are still drying on the line.
A mist sees to it they won't.
But the night is clearing.
His legs are numbing.
He flexes his quads,
and then his hamstrings,
gives them both a rub,
and then returns to nursing
his beer and gazing up
at the free show of
pop and sizzle
against the
of the
It feels good. Perhaps it will last, despite the ebb of seasons.
Chad W. Lutz was born in 1986 in Akron, Ohio, and raised in the neighboring suburb of Stow. His works have been featured in Diverse Voices Quarterly, The Dying Goose, Haunted Waters Press, and prominently on, of which he serves managing editor. Chad currently works in North Canton writing web content for an online job resource website. An avid athlete, Chad runs competitively for a Northeast Ohio running club and swims in his spare time. He aspires to run the Olympic marathon at the 2016 games.

No comments:

Post a Comment