The Smiths by Erik Carlsen

I stroke Morrissey’s jawline
It is clear and sharp
On the poster
I rub the stubble on his face
And smell the gladiolus in his pocket
The buds he pressed to his heart until they
Broke pollen on his bare chest
“The sun shines out of our behinds”
the stereo blares over the
barking dog and shouting parents
yes it does, Morrissey,
it does for us and no others
I find a secret coven between
The gatefolds of these records

Walking through the cemetery gates
With Keats and Yeats
Stonely reading the graves of all
We have borrowed from
Us equals
Afraid of being
Forgotten and
I kneel before the record player
In the darkness of my room
I look up with tears in my empty eyes
And the corners of my mouth are wet
From the falling tears
As surely as my throat is dry
From sobbing the lyrics
“the boy with the thorn in his side”
you were always better than The Cure

Erik Carlsen is a 19-year-old freshman at Pacific Lutheran University in Washington State. Erik is an avid fan of The Smiths, The Cure, Morrissey, New Order, and Depeche Mode.