The Wraith – Nicholas Yandell


To a dream

That walks like me

Holds my reflection

But speaks unsteadily



By open air

Through windowless holes

Of ghost town shacks


A phantom


Still drifting

        And mapping


Invisible pinpoints


To steady ticks

Of some other clock

      Under the glare

Of some other sun




            In vain


Grafting creatures underfoot


Like a failed organ transplant



From its warm blood sanctuary



To sputter

The wilderness

Of wandering

The floating highways

Sinking trails

And vanishing tracks



      No option but retreat

Through dark curtains of follicles

And wire meshes of veins

The backbreaking calluses



Flaking away


To specks of a scar


From waking eyes






As a dormant key

In the stirs of sleep

Of a restless faraway being.

Nicholas Yandell is a composer, who sometimes creates with words instead of sound. In those cases, he usually ends up with fiction and occasionally poetry. He also paints and draws, and often all these activities become combined, because they’re really not all that different from each other, and it’s all just art right?

When not working on creative projects, Nick works as a bookseller at Powell’s Books in Portland, Oregon, where he enjoys being surrounded by a wealth of knowledge, as well as working and interacting with creatively stimulating people. He has a website where he displays his creations; it’s Check it out!

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