By Nicholas Barnes
c.b.,
you left your hold slip in that
library book. james tate’s final
poetry collection.
the weathered words on the
receipt paper said: brownstein,
charles—pick up by 11/28/2020.
did you enjoy those 82 pages as
much as i did? did you make it
cover to cover, or did you quit 3⁄4
of the way through?
i liked the piece about the camel
dog. which was your favorite?
please, feel free to write back if
you’re so inclined.
maybe we could get a coffee and
discuss boa constrictors, the
merits of prayer, foxes vs.
turkeys, or abandoned
thanksgiving streets.
i’ll respond to colby, carl, even
paul. hell, you can call me frog if
you’d like.
you can call me anything, though
i go by cole.
xoxo, sayonara, adios, ribbit,
your brother in letters.
[p.s.: don’t be a stranger]
[p.s.s.: that’s funny, did you
know we share the same initials?]
Nicholas Barnes earned a Bachelor of Arts in English at Southern Oregon University. He is currently working as an editor in Portland, and enjoys music, museums, movie theaters, and rain. His least favorite season is summer. His favorite soda is RC Cola.
Hot Pot Magazine 