Does it feel like the promise
of something new? Yesterday stale in your mouth,

morning breath of car bombs and platitudes.
But the world is still

dying: another inch of snow and another inch
of waistline. And you thought you could leave

this behind because you tore a calendar
off your wall, because you were brave enough

to look at a phone number
and press delete. Step outside. Step on

the scales. Do butterflies own this world?
Is that a new face you see in the microwave door?

This is the season of the two-faced god.
Don’t believe his promises. Don’t

let him palm your dreams
like a trick coin.

Jason McCall

Jason McCall is the author of Dear Hero, (winner of the 2012 Marsh Hawk Press Poetry Prize) Silver (Main Street Rag), I Can Explain (Finishing Line Press), and forthcoming Mother, Less Child (winner of the 2013 Paper Nautilus Vella Chapbook Prize). He is from the great state of Alabama, where he currently teaches at the University of Alabama. He holds an MFA from the University of Miami, and his work has been featured in Cimarron ReviewThe Los Angeles Review, New LettersThe Rumpus, and other journals.