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Friday, June 26, 2020

Featuring Tohm Bakelas


invisible suffocation 

it happened again. i don’t know how it found me 
this time, but someone must have sold me out. 
i was alone in medical records, reading a former 
patient’s chart when i felt it. i couldn’t avoid it. i ran
from the room with my papers clutched in my hand 
like a crucifix until i reached an unfamiliar ward on 
the second floor, but it was there too. it kept hunting 
and following me. and on the third floor i was 
walking with patients, but it found them too. they 
began screaming and instructed me to flee. i managed 
to get into the staircase where i leapt down two flights 
of stairs before making it to my desk. but when i got 
there, it was sitting in my chair, calmly waiting. and so 
i submitted to it. and on lunch break it rode as my 
passenger, my copilot on this journey in hell, its claws 
clasped between my ribs, with strength that 
manifested from all the years of sadness from this 
hospital. my watch offered no escape. 4 o’clock was 
three and a half hours away. that’s a long time to wait 
in a sadness that is not yours.


stale air

she smokes a cigarette 
with her current lover, 
they’ve been at it for months. 
I walk in circles in the rain, 
stumbling and pacing, 
trying to feel the falling rain, 
trying to feel anything. 
another night wasted, 
another night spent 
getting wasted. 
inside I sit alone. 
the countertop 
is covered in beer 
and dollar tips. 
I watch a single black ant 
pace between patrons and
study his environment 
with his feelers. 
I pick him up, 
but it’s too much power, 
I let him down. 
a blonde with a terrible 
neck tattoo that reads “overcome”
smashes him with one swift move. 
my former lover 
passes by and 
squeezes my left side. 
I think about how the ant
got the better deal.



Entrance/Exit 

A grassroots initiative
to start a revolution
came together
on a foggy night
in November hell.

“Shit,” I yelled, “I’ve got 
four gallons of 
unopened kerosene!”

Silence rushed in like waves breaking
on the shores of Gloucester;
One person in the room
stood up and clapped;
Mice were heard fucking 
between the walls;
Eventually peace talk resumed
and a pigeon flew into a closed window.

On Friday I get paid,
I’ll eat two pizza slices 
and watch the cars go by. 

i always hated new york

she stares me in the eyes 
and i look back— 
two souls unbroken 
and never to be touched— 
the line is severed and
it’s nothing more than 
a passing glance. 
i see the sorrow, 
she sees the misery.
tonight when the moon 
says nothing, 
remember 
my eyes 
said 
something 


old man behind a cemetery

I watched an 
old man 
drag two 
sleeping bags 
into the 
woods 
behind a cemetery
and I watched 
as his 
silhouette 
faded 
into the woods. 

I sat for
a while 
wondering 
if I 
should 
check in 
on him or
call the police
but instead 
I read
a book. 



Update: See also five haikus by Tohm here:


TOHM BAKELAS: 
Tohm Bakelas is a social worker in a psychiatric hospital. He was born in New Jersey, resides there, and will die there. His poems have appeared in numerous journals, zines, and online publications. He is the author of several chapbooks and a full length book of poetry. His work has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and he intends to conquer the small press and exclusively publish within.  

CONTACT:


Email: tohm.bakelas@gmail.com

Website: https://tohmbakelaspoetry.wordpress.com

Instagram: @flexyourhead

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