Ivan Peledov

Ivan Peledov lives in Colorado. He loves to travel and to forget the places he has visited. He has been recently published in Goat’s Milk Magazine, The Collidescope, iō Literary Journal, and Wend Poetry.

Time No Longer

Sunrays embrace mangled trees along dusty roads
or dance on empty plates before breakfast.
Time is but a music no one cares to compose.
Birds contemplate the dregs of the future
wrapped in the footprints of the blind.


I watch a couple of dogs run away
and the grass grow up to the sun all day long.
Clouds nailed to the fields are ready to tell us
unbelievable stories about gullible aliens attracted by empty bottles.
Real parents always speak with foreign accents,
and the years pass by like the addictions of solar insects.

Small Things

It is against the law to have a nameless
caterpillar in the vicinity. The queen of
every cubic inch is dreaming about
canned samsara. We may be proud descendants
of discarded nickelodeon hair, but we don’t laugh.

Dust of Inanity

Songs cannot survive a liquid stairway.
Raindrops never remain in memory for too long.
Raccoons, snakes, easter bunnies wait for
something solid to play with in fancy jalopies.
Crumpled landscapes disgust the memory of an old cannibal.

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