Conspiracy Theories

by | Dec 15, 2023 | Poetry

Three bright blue push pins in a tan bulletin board.

I suspect the woodpecker
knows Morse code
and the groundhog is concealing
explosives in his burrow.

Two clouds were seen
colluding to the point
that now there
is only one.

The sun pretended to go
down then snuck back up
to snap our pictures
with an infrared camera.

And those angels dancing
on the head of a pin?
Well, they’re no angels
and that’s not dancing.


Photo by Marco Verch, used and adapted under CC.

About The Author

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Kurt Luchs (kurtluchs.com) won a 2022 Pushcart Prize, a 2021 James Tate Poetry Prize, the 2021 Eyelands Book Award for Short Fiction, and the 2019 Atlanta Review International Poetry Contest. He is a Senior Editor of Exacting Clam. His humor collection, It’s Funny Until Someone Loses an Eye (Then It’s Really Funny) (2017), and his poetry collection, Falling in the Direction of Up (2021), are published by Sagging Meniscus Press. His latest poetry chapbook is The Sound of One Hand Slapping (2022) from SurVision Books (Dublin, Ireland). He lives in Kalamazoo, Michigan.