Two Poems by Andre F. Peltier

Injuries in Time and Space #1

One time,
walking to the car
I saw a flame of
guiding light.
It was a glowing flare
against the Olympian hordes.
It directed traffic
away from the main
Chilean event.
Mesmerized,
I waited for hours
until the van returned
packed to the gills
with teenage wanderlust.
No tears could wash away
the emptiness, the fear.
The fear took root
and has grown a sequoia:
tall, stately, unbreakable.
Farewell to those
carefree days.
And the crowd chanted,
“Chi Chi Chi
Le Le Le –
Chi-Le!
Chi-Le!
Chi-Le!”


Injuries in Time and Space #2

One time,
riding my bike,
I hit a patch of
soft sand.
It was a nasty spill.
Skidding ten feet on
my elbows and knees
and a hole opened up.
My kneecap was visible
through layers upon layers
of torn skin.
Blood mixed with sand.
I picked up my bike,
limped home.
No stitches:
there was nothing to stich.
The hole,
gaping chasm into which
we all stared,
bid farewell to those
underground days.
We stared into that
gaping chasm
and the gnarled flesh
stared back.


Andre F. Peltier (he/him) is a Lecturer III at Eastern Michigan University where he teaches literature and writing. He lives in Ypsilanti, MI, with his wife and children. His poetry has recently appeared in various publications like CP Quarterly, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Novus, About Place, and Fahmidan Journal, and most recently he has had a poem accepted by Lavender and Lime Literary. In his free time, he obsesses over soccer and comic books. @aandrefpeltier