andrew mauzey & jeff stillion

The Man Who Lived Above Me


In an alleyway,
neighbors are talking.
He left his note–

Now I hang here
Quiet and sleeping.

This view of death
hangs over me
as blue as wind

and ready to explode.
I stare at the sky
to forget about how the odds

are against us. The sun,
crawling on knees,
begins to set like a friend

shoved to the ground.
I would like to know
his story: in an alleyway,

neighbors are talking,
he left his note–
well, close enough.

 

Buuuuup

My father used to play the trumpet–
choked notes coming up for air
like demons held to sunlight,
some to heaven, some to hell:

a bit twisted,
a bit melancholy,
a bit stuck.
a bit of me.

I hear the music in my head,
a tone of: Look what you did.
Do it differently. My son,
you’re not enough.

And I think,
well, maybe the future
will bury these notes deep;
let that be enough.

My First (and Last) Appointment with a Psychotherapist


I tell him: I fell asleep in my clothes,
dreamt I saw the civil war–

flags stretched over wood.
This view of death and hell,

a soldier who was killing–
I felt fear, and it was mine.

Twenty-five years old
and I can hear voices–

simultaneous letters.
I had to let them in.

The doctor just sighed,
two strangers talking:

What of the letters?
Do you wonder if it's really real?

I confess–
Well, maybe, this is all that I’ve known.

He smiles like the face in my sleep,
a buried blade,

and stares out the window,
staring and thinking,

my reflection looking back.
He thinks I’m crazy–oh well.

Andrew Mauzey earned an MFA in creative writing at Chapman University and Jeff Stillion an MFA in creative writing at Full Sail University. In addition to teaching writing and literature at Biola University in La Mirada, CA, our work has appeared in The Poetry Foundation, TreeHouse Arts, and 34th Parallel to name a few. Together we make music under the name The Sunday Parade and often adapt the various themes and images of our songs to poetry.