ISSUE 3
Scout Faller
​
My Dead Name is Shared with a Houston Rapper
& I would never wear blundstones
You can find me working
Outside of my essentia
Reconstructing myself off my phone
Grabbing the aux
Polyester halter top
Suburban housing tract freestyle
When the mirror spoke, it said
STOP SPENDING MONEY
After that, she lost me
Face agnosia but personal
Years ago
Is my name on my birth certificate
She calls to her mother
Who art in heaven
We all need an interlocutor
The Duchess of Sussex
Leaning in a denim mini
What’s under that hood
A long torso in 2007
A fashionable accessory
Cars have a rich interior life
The desires of cars must be studied further
Sometimes they let cars direct movies
This guy would confuse me with a girl named Polly
A writer named Casper
No one looks like the other
We’re all blonde
Polly’s an artist
She makes sex toys out of bread
The guy had a waxed mustache
Scrawny local socialist
In that city, he could not have been anybody
Grazing on his face
Its middling distance
I did not correct him
In the beginning there was the Word
​
​
​
middletown
​
i thought i could leave
old barn old
growth cold feet
the whole time,
i’ve been walking
thinking i was writing
my girlfriend’s green
against blue
important to capture it
capture her, but flatter
i watch her
watch deer. a feeling
so unbearable
we refuse it, what
guilt is, you
were thinking
of children, growing
in the backyard
scraping the seeds
of pineapple guava
it’s always something
eros and houses to cry in
naked ladies out of
season pink, the
breath you smack
into me, stepping
in and out of
this feeling, our heads
pointed towards
stars. drawing
of a clock in
blue ink, a position
from which
i keep opening
​
​
Scout Faller is a poet, and never bored. They live with their girlfriend and their cat in San Francisco. Their poetry has been shortlisted for the Surging Tide Writing contest. They've been published in HAD, lowly dirt children, Bullshit Lit, and Dream Boy Book Club. scoutfaller.com/poems