108 names
Chris Cole


there are no words
for what i am feeling
but there are names
for the gods
that you can chant

something to call out
or to keep inside

i am at the video store
i am inside your skin
i am at the coffee shop
there are all these things
to distract me
i am in the andes
and on spanish steps
i am climbing towards the place
where they said you would be
and falling down drunk
at the thought
of getting what i want

a terrifying thought
ferocious limbs
asymmetrical desires
that form a perfect circle
skin so soft
it would eat me alive

everything in your heart
is so unsettled
and yet well placed
but perfection is messy
i want a body i can trust
and a soul
that fits inside of it
i am tired of keeping my wishes
in these bottles
there’s no point in collecting things
that are supposed to be enjoyed

so we will open up our hearts
and drink what’s inside
and if we are always drunk
we will never be hungover

but the crack isn’t where we are coming apart
it is where we are coming together.


Chris Cole is a writer and father living in Marin County. He is a contributor to the San Francisco reading series Quiet Lightning and its monthly publication Sparkle and Blink, and is also a member of the Tuesday Night Writers. He runs Disembodied Poetics, which can be found on Facebook, YouTube and the free web, and recently finished his first novel, the speed at which i travel.