Cabin Fever

A poem by John Maurer


A snowcapped car crash
is idyllic in a morbid way
To see nature is still
something to be survived
despite all the property deeds
we don’t own this


The ecosystem will chew you up
and spit you back out as it has been doing
for billions of years to your earlier evolutionary stages
Corpses don’t own a thing and your assumption
that you won’t be one soon confuses me


I spend every moment of every day
astonished that I make it to the next breath
that my heart coincidentally keeps beating


John Maurer is a 26-year-old writer from Pittsburgh that writes fiction, poetry, and everything in-between, but his work always strives to portray that what is true is beautiful. He has been previously published in Claudius Speaks, The Bitchin’ Kitsch, Thought Catalog, and more than seventy others. @JohnPMaurer (johnpmaurer.com)

Empty Photo Album

A poem by John Maurer


Let the incense fall to ash until the religion does

See it as a hearth not a forest fire, from an arm’s length

Your enemy starts beating you as soon as you consider them an enemy

Once you forfeit the cranial square footage to them for squatters’ rights

_______________________________________

Second thoughts are like second children; mistakes

Another attempt at something you failed massively at before

At the risk and pain of others, in the name of narcissism 

No sacrifice makes up for ending a life or creating one

_______________________________________

Take only photos, leave no ancestors

Leave no survivor who is stronger than you

or accept that power isn’t beyond grasp

but not of worthwhile pursuit to hold


John Maurer is a 26-year-old writer from Pittsburgh that writes fiction, poetry, and everything in-between, but his work always strives to portray that what is true is beautiful. He has been previously published in Claudius Speaks, The Bitchin’ Kitsch, Thought Catalog, and more than seventy others. @JohnPMaurer (johnpmaurer.com)