Taylor Collier
Boring Person

I’m the most boring person I know,
but that doesn’t mean I haven’t found

myself fiending for weed in a stranger’s
apartment in Arlington, Texas, on New

Year’s Eve talking to some can’t-quit-
scratching-herself tweaker-dealer’s skin-

head bodyguard, who, just at the point
where I assume I’ve made enough of

an impression not to leave a lasting one,
points with the toe of his boot at the two

bullet-holes in the floor and starts in
about how his brother pawned the wrong

gun, how it doesn’t matter because
he’s headed for prison anyway, and

how no one’s slept in three days, which
could account for the way both their

eyes dart back and forth between me
on the couch and the two beanie-clad

kids in the kitchen who’ve crushed up
oxies and are railing them right off

the counter, and it could explain why,
when they speak, their words aren’t

directed to, or even at, but around, me,
which is perhaps more unsettling than

the business card the skinhead hands me—
Reverend Flip: Welcome to the flip-

side of life—right before I step out
into night’s vacancy, slink into my car’s

chill, and praise that familiar interstate,
its sluice, its buzz, the way it takes me.



Taylor Collier, originally from Lubbock, Texas, currently lives in Nashville, TN. He has degrees in Creative Writing from Florida State, Syracuse, and the University of North Texas. Poems have appeared in places such as Barrow Street, Birdfeast, The Laurel Review, The Normal School, Poet Lore, Rattle, Smartish Pace, Tar River, Zone 3, and others. More poems and writing about poetry at: taylorcollier.com.