Outward Junkyard - 11/08/25 by Jakob Krey

Out past it all, looking back at a pale blue fetus.

There is a dawning loss of care and hierarchy,

an angels trumpet twining up a rusted stop sign.

I am fascinated in decay which aids some growth

such a consumptive force breaks us free

even from the shackles of pervasive duality.

A sticky dance floor and saccharine music

the vinyl models with plastic wrap clinging

their fragile and tumbling bodies falling

flower petals float over the strobe lights

eye catching beacons of divinity, sight of angels

lights a soft white heat, reflecting off my soul

dissipating before reaching the dancers around me

it is hard to believe that any want me held near

I have an unshakeable lack of social situating

it seems that those who know me are getting tired

and that remains a devourous feeling inside me

but that's fine for the moment, as it passes upward

Jakob Krey has spent his entire life in central Wisconsin. Immersed in the underrated natural beauty and history of the state, he seeks to reflect his personal experiences in ecological restoration and local historical research in poetry that has a "found" aspect. He is influenced in this work by thinkers and writers spanning from Aldo Leopold to David Foster Wallace. Here, he attempts to reconcile historical longing and the mythos of the American landscape with the encroachment of blighted modernity.