By Jonathan Travelstead


A building contractor, in her sleep
hears sheetrock flex beneath paint.
A mockingbird beside the open bay window
imitates the caw of her calico jailed behind it
and sidewalk cinches in the cool of night.
Because we all frame the doorways
through which we walk
from one room of our lives to the next,
she dreams the sky and the ocean’s bottom
are only rumors of endless job sites.
She stirs at electrons' spiralling
through twelve-gauge copper
if only because wiring her home
makes her believe it.

Jonathan Travelstead served in the Air Force National Guard for six years as a firefighter and currently works as a full-time firefighter for the city of Murphysboro. Having finished his MFA at Southern Illinois University of Carbondale, he now works on an old dirt-bike he hopes will one day get him to the salt flats of Bolivia. He has published work in The Iowa Review, on Poetrydaily.com, and has work forthcoming in The Crab Orchard Review, among others. His first collection “How We Bury Our Dead” by Cobalt/Thumbnail Press was released in March, 2015.

© 2015