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C.N.P Poetry 

  • Writer's pictureCathexis Northwest Press

pseudo-horror poem in the morning; pseudo-horror poem at the ice cream parlor

By: Josh Anthony

pseudo-horror poem in the morning

in the morning glaze a batch

of donuts wait and only

when she sees them does

the kitchen emerge.

though the savory wrinkles

of tourtiere still

mingle on the counter,

everything is now awful

with sweetness. aunts

and uncles have yet

to rise, she has first

pick and chooses a boston

cream donut that drips

immediate. she is alone

and feels it. everything

will be movement soon. soon

grandpa will come

from the driveway,

grandma from the porch

searching for coffee. now, then,

something visages

from the chocolate frosting,

and the grass acts as if

it is snowing.

pseudo-horror poem at the ice cream parlor

pistachio shells on the counter

like hollowed and dead

and hollow stones.

her shoes feel full

of the stream’s sound. the neighbor

boy distracted by everything

lets his ice cream melt

and smear across his hands

so as he spreads his fingers

to pick up a skipping stone

it looks as if he has

webs between his fingers.

a sun different today, a strange

dry heat for july. a fly

stuck in sugar, she takes

a thread from her pocket

and leashes the bug, frees it

from the gunk and watches it

struggle in the glimmering dust.


Josh Anthony is an M.F.A. candidate (please vote for me) at Eastern Washington University. Josh has appeared in a fingerful of magazines including Crab Fat Magazine, Gone Lawn, and Anomaly Literary Journal.

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