Victor Kreuiter lives, reads and writes in the Midwest. He has published fiction and poetry in print and online publications.


Trigger Warning

He wedged a poem between the brickwork and the sill,
thought it would slow down ants.

She floated a poem down a creek,
hoped some little boy, some little girl, would find it.

He tucked a poem in a hay bale,
imagined it traveling in the bed of a truck.

She dropped a poem in a well.

You’d see them together,
relaxed, moving slowly, one with cane,
one with scarf and dark glasses,
and you’d think …

What is it they’ve done that makes them appear
to live in some splendid, favored atmosphere?

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