by Jared Beloff
In the hours before dawn,
there’s an ache ignored behind my eyes
blankly stare up at the glow in the dark star stickers. I light
stuck in a waking dream, numb,
my limbic life flowing on beneath them.
I am magnetic
a clear lack of celestial networks
the kind of existence that can only be acknowledged through denial.
There is no way to accurately measure the distance between you and now.
I’ll be dead soon enough,
still wondering what I am.
In order of appearance, this cento borrows the title and lines from: Matthew J. Andrews “it’s 2:00 a.m. and I am Thinking About the Black Hole from Interstellar,” Issue 19); River Elizabeth Hall (“Witching Hours,” Issue 16); Jared Beloff (“Living Happily at the End of the World,” Issue 20) Ashley Hajimirsadeghi “self-portrait as loneliness,” Issue 19); Rebecca Gethin (“Brain Sorrow,” Issue 13); Christopher W. Clark “The Shape of You,” Issue 16); Kylie Martin (“I’ve Clawed My Way Back Up to the Surface of the Earth” (Issue 15); Julie Weiss (“I Tell My Daughter She Can’t Call the Dead” Issue 17); Kevin Hüttenmüller (“tearing down my body to find god,” Issue 19); Megan Cannella (“Between You and Now,” Issue 17); Andrew Bertaina (“In Spain” Issue 20); Ottavia Paluch (“What I hate About the Stars” Issue 18).
Jared Beloff is a teacher and poet who lives in Queens, NY with his wife and two daughters. You can find his work in Contrary Magazine, Rise Up Review, Barren Magazine, Bending Genres, The Shore and elsewhere. He is the editor of the Daily Drunk Magazine’s anthology of Marvel inspired poetry, Marvelous Verses. His work was nominated for Best of the Net 2021. You can find him online at www.jaredbeloff.com. Follow him on twitter @read_instead.
Emerge Literary Journal 