Wishes are plateaus we seek, marginal beings, galvanized electric sparks.
They approach like thunder—suddenly the wild beach, roller coaster smile, cindered fingers rising from the doldrums.
Dip into a heterodox cadence, spill forth a doxology, grasp the mystic repose of unicorns. Everything is blank. No cherubs, no ecumenical cannons to obey.
Be your own apostle. Clutch a wish. Follow it as it drags you to sea, body a cocoon of cataplexy, spirit a vortex grasping the unnameable gestalt.
The sonata is ours to play.
Make a wish.
About the AuthorMatt Nagin is a poet, fiction writer, actor, and comedian living in New York City. He writes for Policy Mic (policymic.com), has performed standup comedy as an opening act for Robert Klein, and acted in a film short featured in the 2010 Williamsburg Film Festival(Willifest). Other places where his work has been published include Grain Magazine, The Antigonish Review, Spillway, and The New York Post. He's performed standup comedy all over the Northeast and was a guest on SITV and Big810.AM.
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