Articles
Alex Stolis
Alex Stolis lives in Minneapolis.
► Alex's Origami micro-chapbooks and selected poems are available below.
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Origami Micro-chapbook |
Selected Poem(s) |
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For J |
Unsent Letter #4Dear,
I think about carefully writing letters then
leaving them in random places:
Dear Subway Passenger,
Dear Passer-By,
Let me tell you about my lover. She’s beautiful
in that way sadness has of rounding out edges. She likes to go barefoot; better to feel the earth tremble, she says. She worries about the sun when it rains. Likes to sit in her grand-mother’s chair; best seat in the house when it thunders. She believes in
long good-byes and wide-open spaces. Last thing
she told me was how words seemed to come alive, when written by hand.
Love,
• Alex Stolis © 2012
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…and a cabal of angels with finger cymbals
chanted his name in code, we shook our fists at the punishing rain; and we called upon the author to explain. Nick Cave |
Tabbris; Angel of Self DeterminationWhat will be left after you are truly gone: the frayed end of a thread from your sweater; bare bulb flickering in the closet; a dog-eared book with a coffee stained cover? There is no past. I’ll pick now to remember what it was like; the scent of rosewater and wood smoke, the rumble of wings against sky as I watch you tie back your hair. There is no such thing as forgiveness or second chances. I’d rather drink to sin; picture you at the end of the bar, hair shorn, legs crossed high ready to start a revolution. •
Alex Stolis © 2012
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Cover Art: Julia Klatt-Singer |
Wednesday's child is full of woeIt was the first day of spring; like any other day but flatter; a tight-chested-wait-for-the-shoe-to- drop day. We tried to be good, tried to placate the part time gods. Parked cars heat up on Main Street. She’s newly minted in her halter top, sling backs and black tights; that buzz should be over by now. I watch the sun fight shadows on the downtown skyline; can’t keep anything, can’t imagine words anymore without you in them. You play piano: soft, low; a prayer, a processional song for saints and the forgotten. I have to say everything twice; make sure I believe. •
Alex Stolis © 2012
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because you are the Angel of Beauty |
Uzziel; Angel of FaithOpen the door. It’s a balcony room; its solid sea top to bottom, I never know when you’ll show up.
Wildwood dreams and parked cars;
somewhere a bird, what kind I can’t tell but you’re in a hurry.
Don’t wait; now, the coffee’s boiled over.
You have a husband, children and a dog; the buzz of a room service bell.
Here’s the [our] last leg.
The television is blurred; jai alai on sound off. Two dollar bets and torn tickets.
We’re mobile.
We’re Crown Vic’ed and convertible. I love you.
I love you. Don’t forget
your wrap. It’s getting cold. •
Alex Stolis © 2012
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