John Tustin


Your barenaked body
In the memories of my mind
Is more happy to see
Than these keys
Upon which I type
As quick as light

As slower than molasses 
Sliding uphill

And how excellent our bodies together
I remember also now
And think about
With my toes numb from the beer
And Dylan playing 
As I think

Your barenaked body
Warm and soft
Up against
My last good rememberings
In this

The second half of life

My barenaked body cold now
And in need of clothes
And closure

Getting dressed in the dark
But still hoping


There was a moment –
We heard a noise and saw the
Bumping up against the fluorescent ceiling light
Higher than we could reach

He or she
Was the size of my index finger
And he or she kept bumping his or her prehistoric body
Up against the harmless light

We looked up and Anita,
Who admits an aversion to insects
Admitted this dragonfly
Was indeed beautiful

And I agreed

I told her something about prehistoric dragonflies,
Their oxygenated inflated size
And that sea scorpions were as big as we are today
And were among the first sea-dwellers to take to land

And then we moved on
To something work related
I guess

I don’t even remember the conversation drifting

As for what the dragonfly then did….
I don’t really know

John Tustin’s poetry has appeared in many disparate literary journals since 2009. contains links to his published poetry online.

Flights. Issue One, June 2021