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Poems by Nate Pritts

          THIS FIRE

With everyone else passed out
it's just the two of us left, crouched
next to this fire made up of whatever

wood we could scrounge, the two of us
making jokes & talking girls,
treating life like one of those foreign movies

where the subtitles flash by so fast
you can only guess at why anyone does
the things they do. How else can you live

your life when the only other option
is to have the dialogue added later,
out of synch: everyone is always saying things

too early or too late so when the leading
man tells his lady love how much he needs
her it's obvious his mind is somewhere

else & when she says she's leaving, finally
leaving, he has to wait until she's out the door
before he can say don't go. Each new day

gives us a thousand reasons to scream
& a thousand more to keep our mouths shut.
Around this fire, everyone else is passed out,

all missed cues & fumbled lines, & maybe
it's better this way, just the two of us left
to make up our own language

where it's ok to bluff your bold way through
& hope no one gets wise. Our whole
confused civilization started this way.

Poetry by Nate Pritts

all poems from the chapbook HELLBENT
from Lazy Frog Press bullpen@lazyfrogpress.com

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