This week, a poem by Brad Trumpfheller.


Reverse Aubade



On the day Adam relinquished his right rib for love, God looks
down at the curved piece of bone & named her the last thing ever created.

the sun hangs in the air like an apple



Adam was never in love, just had a dream once in a while. One day, God comes down
to the garden, asks Adam about his dreams, then touches him. He breaks.

the sun unrises



God isn’t a god at all, is the older boy that Adam stares at in art class,
with the blonde hair, the one who knows the basketball court like he’s fucked it.

the sky trains itself into unfamiliar pinks



God is smoking everything he shouldn’t be out of a pipe, sees Adam behind the CVS,
asks if he wants to hang out before school tomorrow, if he can meet him at dawn.

The night is always darkest just before



Adam’s dreaming again & this time God isn’t wearing a thing & this time God
asks Adam to hold his hand & sit underneath the weird tree in the Heights together. 

the night sky bleeds starlight



Adam waits by the stop sign in front of the basketball court & two boys wearing hats cross
the street & pin him down on the corner & the whole city smells like asphalt

the moon is a bruise



God is wearing his black boots & now all Adam can taste is boots & teeth & God doesn’t
stop until Adam’s face looks like the sky if the sky was bleeding. A rib cracks.

 dusk comes with the speed of a falling apple



Boys’ laughter        plants itself        in the street a garden        blooms
the sun        slinks behind the bone        white clouds        God looks
at the broken boy        & uncreates the world


BRAD TRUMPFHELLER is an undergraduate student at Emerson College. Their work has appeared in or is forthcoming from The Nashville Review, Assaracus, Muzzle, and elsewhere.

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One Response to “A Poem by Brad Trumpfheller”

  1. David Marshall 21 April 2017 at 2:40 PM #

    A terrific poem moving from beauty to terror in such a few very well chosen images. You broke off a piece of my heart. KEEP WRITING.

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