Poetry by Devon Brock.
i read The Ocean, once, it was enough. i scratched its name — your name on a napkin and wiped my mouth — your mouth mouth for a table eye for a cleat hand through a window dog in the street like pavement... Continue Reading →
A shadow fell upon my sheeted crown,and she whispered, “It is time, my bonny, it is time.”And when I rose, a linen for cloak,I stood shoeless on a cobbled road,squeezed on a Georgian lane,where tight faces hid behind tight curtains,dim shadows in gaslightwith green and scurvy eyes. With her palm light-pressedat the base of my... Continue Reading →
...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 to the floor.And I, though broken in a dream,Shorn of hands,Less a body than a thought,Became a dream for a stone-eye dogWho rolled belly up... Continue Reading →
I dream houses.I dream small roomsbehind small doorsin which small wardrobeslead nowhere but trappingsof our mangled time -of yours and mine. I dream chimney fires,tongues between wallsand curtains hung like tar.We were never longin the vapors, strangers yes,but a lope of gray shoulderand a turning was you, I am sure,everturning and blue. I find you... Continue Reading →
The roads here,rum tongued, black toothedand pitted, lead somewhere. I am sure that over the peak of it,splayed out like toes in dry sand,tractioned for tide, a florescence,maybe, maybe down in the abalone towns,the oyster shot towns - in The Mother of Pearl,where I met a guy,a guy named Reason,slim fingered and wrungout at last... Continue Reading →
Outside the house that's never ours, down-slope and foundation, the faceless one in violet jacquard slid the stone away. And he was strong, by God, for he did it with a touch light as breath, light as fingernails and not a callous revealed a trade. Exposed and streak, some long and rodent thing, large as... Continue Reading →
Tobacco tar walls, Resin ceiling, Dun carpet floor - all receding - creased receding to the elevator door - and the doors - the doors - the endless doors repeating. I drop a penny. I squat but it's tails. I look up at a girl looking up. Her hair is black, tangled comely. She has... Continue Reading →
I am late for work again, but the tub is full of orange water rising into towels wicking orange water. I fumble in the tub for the drain plug chain and pull. I am late for work again, but the party is on and Jared has a milk moustache. But he's tugging a seven and... Continue Reading →
