Presence
To become fluentIs to walk with the handsThe resilience of starchDried on the steep slope of the bowl.And what may seem cleanIs a trick of the eyeFor the residue of…
Poetry by Devon Brock
To become fluentIs to walk with the handsThe resilience of starchDried on the steep slope of the bowl.And what may seem cleanIs a trick of the eyeFor the residue of…
Come all ye winter brigands,Strip these tainted fairland woodsOf their baubles and wares.Take what plump fruits remainIn glistened fists and bind,Bind the spruce tightly –Such prideful beasts these trees. Come…
It was something else entirely.It was not the ripped yellow t-shirtI pulled from between the bouldersWhere the lake met Chicago.It was not the penny or the wastedGull feather. Nor was…
Sun go down in boxcar blue Swing arm crank go down them dew Flash eye drag with horn and load Coupling break for sorra’ stowed Side dump slag and tank…
Which river to cross –The shallow brook of faith,Tepid in the slow run to God, orThat which drains into the oily pitsOf loss, tormented though aliveIn sure and certain combustion?…
…Sleep conjured a small dogwith a granite eye, mats and mange,Three legs and a vagrant tongueThat hung from the left of its snout,A viscous drool that strung withoutShame, without breaking…
I wait for you, gratin,Wait for the flesh to yieldTo finger, wait for the crustTo brown and the edgesCurl like dry earthIn the fist of a long drought. Such a…
Smelted down,A pool of rendered gristle,Slick on the floor,That’s what a day leaves us, After the tethered heavesOf this most sought production,Blendered the dawn news,The hooved mews, cool dews,And all…