Three Rib Bones with Trains and Rain
Three rib bones flush from the culvert pipeafter hunks of pelvis beside the tracks –the tracks with no arms but rumblerumble strips and red bell ticks. Clang go the boneswhere…
Poetry by Devon Brock
Three rib bones flush from the culvert pipeafter hunks of pelvis beside the tracks –the tracks with no arms but rumblerumble strips and red bell ticks. Clang go the boneswhere…
We came upon the delta, we, brothers,split out from the blue wide river,contrapuntal and lost among cypress,moss, muck and brute-teeth jangles. And though I never carried a tune,I carry the…
They are not yours, those eyes –those hazel eyes crustedwith sleep-thrashed release –and neither the mind behindthinking of toast on a new day,soft-buttered and still yet crisp. And those are…
Am I thus soiled by envy and toilor bettered in a blind groped striving?I will blow a hole through a massifnot to defile its majesty, but to carve,to carve and…
I findnot many lighters and too many cheap shades,laid against a loose-hinged trifocal,Expensive, lost and necessary,upon the flip-top notebookbound with crushed spiral wire,And within, the gibberishof a young girl’s day…
What was it, that chocolate crustscorched in the pot from yesternight,leaning, off-burner, with the danglingspoon, wooden and stained? Best give it a soak, my love,that tomorrow we may findits nature…
From once to somehow to somewhere,The brittle language of hope cracksBetween my teeth, much as iceCracks beneath my boots as I,Unhurried on a wax gibbous morn,Make my way to the…
The pin is broken,And the wheel has slipped from the rod.The mechanics of our passageAre broken now,And all our worldly venturesHave spilled out onto the ground:Her red backed Bible,Your cast-iron…