SHUTEYE
IN THE LAND
OF THE SACRED
COMMONER
& other poems
110 pages, 7.00
self published and available today on Lulu
(book preview on site is book entire)
~
some poems, from:
~
{untitled}
the robot is a ******
the baby
it goes
from baby
to baby
with no
message.
-
I want your work to matter.
~
{keep}
the laziness animals have, that kind of panicked longing…
and brevity, the faith
of insects
-
my shadow, of course, afraid of its borrowed blood
-
that barn
in the middle of nowhere’s haunted eyesight
-
the invisible
after-hours
birth, and the woman
who keeps the baby
despite
its perfection
-
this quiet in the redneck’s
library
of forgiveness, this thunder…
-
the agony of the boomerang’s maker
~
******
the cigarette
the worrier’s
flashlight
the past
a widow…
deserted childhood, electric eel.
if poor
put mouth
where mouth
is
~
{untitled}
the baby contorts as if it might become a chair
its mother is saying
wind
I will pray
for you
-
its father is fashioning
from some god’s
idea
of a stripper
pole
a dollhouse
totem
-
the baby itself is nonsense
its head
bruised
by a rattle
would brain
a parrot
Jun 9, 2016
Jun 9, 2016 at 1:13 PM UTC
SHUTEYE
IN THE LAND
OF THE SACRED
COMMONER
& other poems
110 pages, 7.00
self published and available today on Lulu
(book preview on site is book entire)
~
some poems, from:
~
{untitled}
the robot is a ******
the baby
it goes
from baby
to baby
with no
message.
-
I want your work to matter.
~
{keep}
the laziness animals have, that kind of panicked longing…
and brevity, the faith
of insects
-
my shadow, of course, afraid of its borrowed blood
-
that barn
in the middle of nowhere’s haunted eyesight
-
the invisible
after-hours
birth, and the woman
who keeps the baby
despite
its perfection
-
this quiet in the redneck’s
library
of forgiveness, this thunder…
-
the agony of the boomerang’s maker
~
******
the cigarette
the worrier’s
flashlight
the past
a widow…
deserted childhood, electric eel.
if poor
put mouth
where mouth
is
~
{untitled}
the baby contorts as if it might become a chair
its mother is saying
wind
I will pray
for you
-
its father is fashioning
from some god’s
idea
of a stripper
pole
a dollhouse
totem
-
the baby itself is nonsense
its head
bruised
by a rattle
would brain
a parrot
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