Paul completed an MFA in writing at Sarah Lawrence College, and could beat up your dad. He is the Cactus Shadow Kid™.
Unless otherwise noted all words and images on this site are by paul k. tunis
Adventures of the Cactus Shadow Kid
Recall the time,
Stuck tongue to teddy-bear-cholla tips and
Left hand in pocket through rattlesnake nest, we swam the desert?
I turned a chipmunk heart inside out and
Found it spiny and raw.
It wouldn’t fit in my cactus wren hollow chest.
The shade my stubble casts is enough to hide us both
But you’ll have to sit on my lap
Where the puffy parts of our bodies meet denim wrapping
Words like dry knuckled-fists
Can’t figure how best to say
That even alone you seem quiet.
Bulky improper circumstance.
And we can’t help but nuzzle the gnawed nautilus shells
Left by cross-eyed sailors.
My arm is the width of an apple-core
And my crooked hair is one curled wire,
And sandwind can turn my eyes to gray,
And the mechanical click
Of my jaw when I say, “It’s twilight.”
Are all symptoms of a contagious me
That no one seems to get.
Because I’m the speakeasy where prose meets cons and
Everything I say is lazy.
It’s never hard to be an outlaw
With sawdust in your mouth.