on the letters he sends. They can be for any- one, these envelopes of ashes. In this one he asks after my lonely, insomniac child. All my sons can sleep. His new lover is about to leave her husband. Why tell me? We aren’t that close. He warns me against sins I will not commit. These words must be for someone else he knows. With no name even he can’t be sure. Bio: Lee Potts is the author of the chapbook And Drought Will Follow and is poetry editor at Barren Magazine. His work has appeared in Rust + Moth, Whale Road Review, UCity Review, Parentheses Journal, Firmament, Moist Poetry Journal, and elsewhere. He lives just outside of Philadelphia. He’s @LeePottsPoet on Twitter.
Fevers of the Mind 