My ‘B’ stands alone, then a period
floats between first initial
and galloping beast of surname, ink elasticizing my given symbols
as a saxophone player might liquify notes; the first is a lower-case ‘h’
mountaining to woozy apex that ebbs before lifting again;
the ‘a’ vacant—pronounced, but never seen; implied,
but never penned—my double ‘r’ appears as only one underneath
a dot
which soars over this entire skyline, a dot disembodied
from its ‘i,’ which grows an ‘s.’
There it is. There
I am.
Brooks Harris is a graduating senior at DePaul University, majoring with a degree in Creative Writing. His primary focus is poetry, and has had his work appear in places like previous editions of The Orange Couch, Crook & Folly’s last issue, and on the Fourteen East website; he also has self-published his first collection of poetry, titled “Multiple Stories Happening At Once.” You can show him most any book and odds are he can tell you the font it is in.