What Direction Now? Life at the intersection…

Never gonna miss a beat



Spent days, fraying the same chairs, staring down the same dollar, building the stairs that I’ll never climb, weighed down as I am by bricks in hands and bones, posing tired old questions with yesterday’s words—буде сьогодні дощ?—today’s cliches doubled down, this sad clown hounded—you should smile more, she says, but mostly for her own happiness rather than mine—outside I see the signs in the darkened sky, I scan the line and wait for gray clouds to peek out from underneath then snake down to swarm the dry ground below, from the sound of it, the sizzle’s not long passed, though I blinked and missed the light, and at last, the rain breaks through, descends and lands, carrying night along and ending day, slurrying the dirt into soup, plopping down, not quite like pennies, not quite like pins.
Did you know what you were doing, did you know…


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What Direction Now? Life at the intersection…

About Andrew.

Andrew Cartwright grew up in Indianapolis, IN, but has lived over the years in such places as Denver, CO; Fairfax, VA; and Rivne, Ukraine. He is a former nonfiction editor for both Indiana Review and phoebe; he has also worked for the intersectional feminist journal, So To Speak, and the national literary magazine, Electric Literature. His work has appeared in The Normal School Online, Copper Nickel, Esquire Ukraine, Literary Hub, and Word Riot.

For more information about me and links to other writing, visit my author page at cartwriter.com





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