A Villanelle from Bad Dreams
I don’t have many nightmares anymore
About cars or boys. The sun has yet to set
Over that streak of violent desert gore
At the diner: I have lunch with the Madonna Whore
and a boy I always knew, who drove the sick Corvette.
I don’t have many nightmares anymore
I can–still–hear the crunch of steel, a hot metal core,
And the cheering of vandals when the checkered flag fell, a quick roulette,
Over that streak of violent desert gore
At the lake: We brought a book of poems from the shore-
gone poet. Sweetly, he told me from behind a cigarette:
“I don’t have many nightmares anymore”
The cars are revving like before
In that empty aqueduct. And I will never get
Over that streak of violent desert gore
The boy has long been buried and I swore
I wouldn’t write a poem about that beautiful brunette.
I don’t have many nightmares anymore
Over that streak of violent desert gore
Zachary Cash is a writer from Southern California. He is currently pursuing a degree in Creative Writing.
Grand Little Things 
This poem masterfully uses the villanelle’s form to evoke the cyclical nature of trauma. Haunting imagery—“the crunch of steel, a hot metal core”—and repeated lines like “Over that streak of violent desert gore” make the grief palpable. Both personal and archetypal, it’s a poignant reflection on memory and loss.
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he’s going to be a famous writer
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