Chased by the Dream

Poetry by Jack Lavelle / Artwork by Chris Boyko


Chased by the Dream

I’m ten feet small/drained in standing pools

sucking thermometers mercurial as I

Staining drunk white tablecloths

drenched with fucking


nailing rich boys to crosses

in works of art and on golf courses

drip little drop drips Pollock painting

gray hair and white eyes

There is no relief to


Some Nights I Was Motherless

The other man took your moonlight

            that night


but He cannot stand

            to bear

                        your child.


when the You that moonlight became was become the second person

when the you are second person who made you come You


moonlight becomes the second person


to recite our names in the same breath

            to list our names in a document, togeth



If I should lose you, some childish night

when the other man finds perfect time,

            Let there be no motherless child


perfect, you are

the nights when dreams are spurned.


burning with foolish thoughts like:

            online tickets to romantic places, [I sensed the words

            steaming densely out of my face]

                        I sent worlds

                        that told you

                        what my hurt meant



in a fairground, taking paintled swigs

in a cold pocket

a perfect telephone rings


the Swimmer

it’s a nice color.


How do you say:

Excuse the mess

in Japanese?


in words we can,, understand:

i thought you told me

It usually doesn’t rain

on the Arizona


There are so many things you don’t know.

 do you realize

 After that day. your daughter was never

the same.


You must really like,, water

 .so tell me


Why were you diving for pearls

on a Sunday?


There are things you should know


you should know

we’re not in

your south anymore


You should know I’m a young man,


I already like this water

 Too much.


You do not know this but

I overcompensate–


I drink it straight

just like


It's me, Who?

Open up

Quickly I’ll

sing a song of

door knocks

and picked locks

fucked on by old clocks and

slipshod tick tocks

sucked off, locking jaws with any

lady luck looking to go down for a shark tooth

or a quick fuck


unprotected from dreams

of angry showers, sexing steam

I’m a smothered scream only the floor hears,

ears covered, writhing and wringing

I sing a song of sex


would you hit me

I am


If I Should Promise

I didn't see you often; but

I wasn't alone because

you weren't available;

I was with Him.

and when we were together,

there was a witness, He saw me from the


doorway, we didn't know he'd be

home; I always looked

back, so soon.

At the time

it seemed like

it was because I knew

it was embarrassing Him;

you were never in my dreams, His nightmares:


a long walk home

with me



Learn more about Jack Lavelle and his writing on his website,

and check out more of Chris boyko's art on his website and Instagram.



Jack Lavelle

Jack Lavelle is a writer from San Diego. He graduated from Columbia with a degree in philosophy and visual arts, and lives in Los Angeles, where he works as a video editor in Hollywood. Jack represented by InkWell Management and is working on his debut novel. His work investigates the ways contemporary society and history fracture and sculpt language.



Chris Boyko

Chris Boyko is an Atlanta-based artist known for his surrealistic interpretation of everyday life. He received his Bachelor of Fine Arts from Kennesaw State University in 2014.