Jon-Michael Frank


the best beach house

is never being born

mystical crystals wrapped in toilet paper

if art were life

id be shitty at both

seeking a daytime soap feeling

I don’t know what to do with

awash in the red curtains

of other people’s fantasies

I want my sunburn to be a good memory

bong water roaming

in the bristling humidity

at the gully

I throw away my candy wrappers

and dump my spirit into a beautiful weed

you belong to things

as you abandon them



love yourself

and die alone

christmas cactus



narrative is not a xanax

a book about magic

in an ikea room

it feels more special

when it’s rejected


watching powerpuff girl


I want to appeal to

something bigger

than me

my heart’s not that


shadows dabbing

an empty chair

you can’t get rid of desire


an object

life is simple

love songs

over the real thing




If I think about things long enough

I think please don’t die

dollhouse chairs

in the trash

the sunrise glitching into

a grease from the abyss


I tear little pieces off

my ecstasy

sailor moon vibes

battling evil

forever safe

in the yoke of young life

whatever’s lacking in love

becomes a performance

credit card shards

in the wild strawberries

I’m more afraid of

what won’t kill me

how the mind is


a kind of sunscreen

what’s brave about being

true to yourself

I can’t tell if it’s crocus

or just leftover confetti

I could be more in love

but I’m not


These poems were originally published in Public Pool.

jon-michael-headshotJon-Michael Frank is the author of the chapbook Nostalgia Flower (Sad Spell Press) and a book of poetic comics How’s Everything Going? Not Good (Ohio Edit / Cuneiform Press). He is an assistant editor for the small press Birds, LLC, and lives between Austin, Texas and the Puget Sound. More at 

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *