portion of the artwork for Michael Meyerhofer's poem

After the Election
Michael Meyerhofer

I’m having a hard time believing
we have so little iron in our blood

even in times of war, even after
the fifth or sixth heartbreak,

but the television documentary
insists each of us carries just enough

to make one sixpenny nail—
adequate to hang a college degree,

I suppose, but not Christ.
So that later, at the hardware store,

picking up a handful, I realize
I am holding a whole city block:

former classmates, dead relatives,
and a smattering of past lovers

who still prick my brain’s fingers
when I try to squeeze them close.



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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 49 | Spring/Summer 2017