New Jorvik Magazine

New Jorvik Magazine
© Surazeus
2026 01 11

After the morning scrolls itself awake 
in ponderous words of rain on blue glass, 
eyeless sparrow on windowsill of fate 
rehearses arrogant remorse by noon 
encoded in engine rumble of cars 
that float in circles of white butterflies. 

If I drink coffee that tastes of elsewhere, 
in cup chipped by worry of ignored facts, 
I might hear cheerful whistle of the neighbor 
who waters delicate plants in clean pots 
that have already decided to glow 
with unread stories of the morning news. 

Developing news on the flashing screen 
reveal secret desires of human hearts 
which means the faceless ghosts of anywhere 
have not yet heard their names hidden in drops 
of rain that glitter on the window pane 
so tables understand how to stand straight. 

I scroll past strange argument about God 
that I once designed from logical terms 
still typing itself in mouth of the horse 
who always brings the tree nymph to my house 
so we drink tea brewed from angelic tears 
and read poems in New Jorvik Magazine. 

Sad siren on stone of Odysseus 
braids air with urgency of hungry gods, 
but drops unfinished book of fairy tales 
unread into the swirling tides of change 
that we must deal with in the city streets 
where emergencies reach for the last peach. 

My phone forgets whom I need to call now, 
so I eat lunch alone in crowded church 
with private anguish of the humble sign 
that flashes when my camera clears its throat, 
alert to ad that promises respect 
stuck in three payments of simplicity. 

Clouds rehearse impersonations of gods 
which dwell in mountains, animals, and trees, 
except apology no one accepts 
for mistake I made on the roadless sign 
when the dead king briefly consults my firm 
for how to understand words of the rain. 

My eyeless sparrow on the windowsill 
develops theory about broken brains 
that should explain how mirrors steal our souls 
each time we write emails to companies 
for refunds from the American Dream 
which linger unsent in the unsaved night.