Are Ghosts Real or Do They Just Send Signals?
by Liam Hudson Bishop

Paris is a city where they say the only way to escape a view of the Eiffel Tower is to be inside it. Guy de Maupassant reportedly would visit the coffee shop beneath it so as not to see it. Vienna is the converse to that. In Vienna the buildings appear to arise around corners, through gaps in a portcullis or archway, in sight on one street and then disappeared the next. Light is essential to this game.
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From the moment I found you starving
in the winter, sunflower, you were the most beautiful
thing I’ve ever seen. Watching
you wilt with hate, kills
me sunflower. You are shining
through a dark ebbing center,
my love. My sunflower, such strength
rooted though I see you strain your spine to hang your head in casted
shadows. My sunflower, my will.
While strangers pick away
in the highest light of day, my love, my sunflower, I love you—
sunflower.

The bridge soft & fluffy like stepping barefoot on a rainbow
with hinges of steel, cross the bridge of velvety nougat
with rails of silk fluttering in the fog, cross the bridge
of slow drying two-component glue

our lives controlled by
need and not desire

end of summer and the
                  idea of fear
too large to be ignored

gun held tight in the
fist of christ

I was sitting alone
at a strip club,
bored
listless
losing
my buzz

Worse yet
I was becoming
depressed
watching the girls
dance
on the stages
and on the floor
as they made
the rounds

their bodies
were like lumps
of clay,
stretched and pulled,
shaped and reshaped,
with no time
left