Flashbulb

Alfredo Lopez


A lightbulb fracturing into snowflakes. That’s how
it felt. A miniscule feeling, like a feather going
down the length of my back, but from the inside.

I don’t know why, I don’t know how this feeling
came to be. And as all feelings go, this one is
harder still to find the words for.

But if I had to guess, it was a step out of place,
where mind went left, and body went right
and whatever remained is still up for debate.

Lost, and yet completely aware of where I was
It was here I realized how alone I truly was
Anyone who’s felt this feeling would know.

As I felt it come over my body, halfway up a bus
I had a sensation, of having relived what I’d just done
again and again and again and again.

Endless loops of time, spent getting in, to get out
to be here or be there, constantly changing
position, but never getting anywhere.

Surrounded by faces, all facing each other,
nobody talked, not one. All of us strangers
and despite having that in common, nobody talked.

I feared that if I spoke, something would break
out. Perhaps an ape, or bird, or worse—a song.
I’m not ready for that. So I kept my mouth shut.


Alfredo Lopez is a poet currently studying at the University of Michigan with intentions of pursuing a career in teaching.


What motivates him to create:
In the simplest way I can put it, poetry has become a part of my personality as much as my profession, so to stop writing would be akin to death— and I don’t want to die just yet.