Read the winning piece of our 2025 Nonfiction Contest “Through the Mirror” by Jessie Cato selected by Lucy Ives.

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Mar/Apr 2019 |

Cargo Cult

My die-cut heart has grown implacably thin
On a hardscrabble fantasy, but that’s love
For you, dangling on a chain of keys to nothing.
She’s an insomniac drooling in the sun, my heart
That is, a thousand roses pressed in a book of flesh.
That’s not the dumbest thing I could say but close.
How about hunger is a voice field dressing a live
Wolf as we make out with it—the improper fit
Of our mouths pressing together in abject passion,
As its fur, a slipped-off negligee, drops to the floor
With measurable attack, sustain, and decay.
Blood resigns from the body as a voice says,
Yes, say that, except rise and fight with Satan
Who has long loved God more than any man.

Aaron Fagan
Aaron Fagan is the author of Garage (Salt Publishing, 2007) and Echo Train (2010). His latest book manuscript was a finalist for the National Poetry Series, and work from it has appeared in American Poetry Review, Awl, Literary Imagination, London Magazine, New Criterion, Poetry Northwest, Prelude, and Yale Review. He lives in Kingston, New York.