portion of the artwork for Peter Schwartz's poem

Peter Schwartz

it’s definitely evening in my solar plexus
the constellations are tattooing themselves onto the planet in the usual ridiculous order

they too must die and it won’t be gentle
but adrenaline’s like cognac once you master that much fluidity

instead of being swallowed whale-like away from your favorite heart
you merge into the lime and asphalt even stronger than the killers


nothing can beat your name out of my body now 
you overtook my worst skeleton by becoming a warrior for both of our silences

practicing true judo in the face of an unrecognizable fire
because nothing stops the heart that pets the part that can’t pet back

you must have hoped this very root would grow and it’s not death but i learned it from the bees
how strangely honey travels and why


they say the biggest jewels come from blood but not always
laws melt too in this freedom mausoleum

where most of what everyone does is survive
however many layers to a human heart we’ll know someday

in the meantime, we won’t succumb to daisies or the idea of suitcases 
we’ll barbecue indefinitely as not to seesaw


there’s no special day to cipher and decipher this gulf
you can’t fight these temporary kidnappings because they’re not so temporary

there’s so many fruitless peepholes and hostile stars
in the landmarks and trappings themselves

before you even face the refugee guesswork of becoming
something more than stamina

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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 47 | Spring 2016