S. FEY
write a poem about wishes
you don’t have to wish on anything, actually, I like those shooting stars as much as the next guy & 11:11 is a cool time & when I blew out my birthday candles I saw shining gold, saw my current smile spread all the way into my future like raspberry jam on some good bread with real butter or if its vegan it’s miyoko’s & intention holds more weight than we think, sorry if I’m falsely accusing you, if you know the weight of will like I know when milk is 140 degrees, just with the tips of my fingers & what consumes you is either wish or in the wish family, which again, is wide & old as an encyclopedias’s dream, your late night yearning sends out a personal bat signal & I’ve been the manifestor and the manifestee, seen even the wrong wish appear right in front of me took her hand & kissed it
S. Fey (they/he) is a Trans writer living in LA. Currently, they are the poetry editor at Hooligan Magazine, and co creative director at Rock Pocket Productions. Their debut poetry collection, decompose, is out with Not a Cult Media. His work has appeared in American Poetry Review, Poet Lore, The Sonora Review, and others. They love to beat their friends at Mario Party. Find them online @sfeycreates.