Joe Milazzo


A piece of paper taped to one
of the doors tells you:
“look like a government”
as a shot garbles
again. The building couples
with broken screens. You kneel, a hose

running from that same piece
of paper. Seeing new cities, you start
a problem. Your whole talk of black
helicopters, a gym, the coming
night, the pantry, some
inexplicably longer list of things:

what you might have to do
if the world started. Spectacular things
and legends run on underground.

Up and down the sure summer,
you didn’t refuse the hot-
house and the ridiculous.

And this bubble of blindness just
used up its cheap zero. Inexplicably
sugar, inexplicably closed off, the second
part of this crisis isn’t that long. Some
boring day-to-day life in the shocking
story that won’t work. How
much? Much more. The brands

in total practice. Small change:
you won’t be able in the aftermath of any
definitive understanding unfolding like always.
To claim, to get protected, to
protect, you trek, still recovering,
odd. Sometimes a strange accent
strikes its foreign currencies. A long time ago,
you got older. A long time ago, the worst
drank its own wine. A long
time ago, a stash somewhere
vociferously warned. A long time
ago, other walls wouldn’t recommend
you. A long time ago, this morning.

Expensive and tight spaces
pump, deciding armies of private
subscribers are still open. You
don’t have to be pronounced. That piece
of paper hangs up. Try to tip.
Get a front-row seat. The guff: it’s
for people who need a select group to
rattle some weight, to receive

the color and influence of constant
bombarding. The alliance is actually bigger
than all you spent. Most jerry cans tell you
you shouldn’t look. The doors, dark, helped

make a rediscovery possible. So you never
expect, and you never lose. Like a virus,
you’ve come to depend on reckoning.


Joe Milazzo is a writer, editor, educator, and designer. He is the author of the novel Crepuscule W/ Nellie (Jaded Ibis Press) and The Habiliments (Apostrophe Books), a volume of poetry. His writings have appeared in Black Clock, Black Warrior Review, BOMB, The Collagist, Drunken Boat, Tammy, and elsewhere. He co-edits the online interdisciplinary arts journal [out of nothing], is a Contributing Editor at Entropy, and is also the proprietor of Imipolex Press. Joe lives and works in Dallas, TX, and his virtual location is