Carry On, Carrion by Kelly Jones


art by Ranko Ajdinović | Website | Etsy Shop | Facebook



Carry On, Carrion

I had my hands on him last night in a dream I forgot
upon waking. Some days are easy

but when they’re not I feel like drowning.
The clock has stopped in my mind


we are still wild manes and taut muscle,
entwined. What is the use of being

all racked up over a hunk of meat?
When I drive highways I count

the corpses of animals. The stains they leave behind
on the asphalt are sometimes lovely and it helps me forget

the dead friends and lovers I’ve left behind.
It’s not the animal’s fault when they collide with cars

but we curse them and cry
not for the mess made

but for the cost to clean it up.
It is the same when a drunk doesn’t wake,

when a vein breaks, when a bullet

blows a hole through brains.

I can still hear the sickening thump and tumble.
It has been years since I hit something on the road


and witnessed a thing left unbreathing
and unrecognizable after impact.

It has been years since I held someone’s stiffening
hand in mine. Cold and dry, like this fall day.




Kelly Jones

Kelly Jones is a librarian in training that currently calls Greensboro, NC their home. Kelly earned their MFA in Poetry from the University of New Orleans’ Creative Writing Workshop. Three of their favorite things are manatees, glitter, and Wild Turkey. In their spare time, Kelly tries to keep houseplants alive, runs The Gambler Mag, and attempts to come to terms with the concept of infinity.