Hasn’t written a song in years. Sits on the drugstore curb and asks me if he’ll ever be the one to change the world. Whistles at a passing Greyhound bus.
“You have a dog, mister?” he asks, “That’s what life’s all about.”
And I, the fool, have nothing to say.
Jack Galati is a writer living in Arizona.
Dad throws in the family photo album. He pretends he doesn’t know and walks feigning a drunken stupor, but we can all see the sadness in his eyes as the photo of him and my mom turns red to ash and takes flight under the light autumn breeze, lost forever.
Jack Galati is a writer living in Arizona. He holds a BA in Creative Writing from Arizona State University where his work was selected for the Undergraduate Writers Showcase. His fiction and poetry has been published in a number of magazines and journals.
The moon is a good friend
on these sleepless nights.
She tells me stories
and mocks the stars
__________(she knows what makes
__________me laugh).
She says that we are
from the same light,
that we exist together,
that all of light is a reflection,
and that we all reflect light.
Jack Galati is a writer living in Arizona. His fiction and poetry has appeared in a number of journals and magazines including Fauxmoir, Pinky Thinker Press, and Beaver Magazine.
One autumn evening, I went on a walk with my nephew through the woods in search of small gods. The boy, slipping along the multi-colored ground, found truth in the way the leaves broke from the branch and floated to the path. He said they are losing, but not lost.
Jack Galati is a writer living in Arizona. He has fiction and poetry published across a number of magazines and journals.