Andrew Riutta
Hallelujah from the Lips of Inanimate Objects
My fingertips are always black—from stripping my cigarette butts and rerolling the tobacco. The doctor recently said there’s probably, by now, enough tar in my lungs to fully patch the leaking roof of some big old Leelanau County horse barn … one about to collapse in on itself. That I should have been already dead ten or twelve years ago, at least—weeping pussy willows planted down by the creek in my memory.
“And a couple of rusty pinwheels,” I added. “To chirp against the deadlier silences.”
burning July heat—
I try like hell
not to curse God
About the Author
Andrew Riutta was born and raised in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. His latest book, Blessed: Modern Haibun on Almost Every Despair (Red Moon Press, 2022) was shortlisted for the Touchstone Distinguished Book Award and won the HSA Merit Book Award for best haibun collection. Currently, he lives in Gaylord and is a Catholic school custodian.
Andy, it’s an honor to be published in the same journal that has published your work again and again. Thanks for your encouragement.
Dear Art, likewise. So very nice to see your work here.