June 14, 2017 / barton smock

marginalia

for John-Paul, Noah, Jacob

I have avoided you
my brothers
like salt
will
a bruise.

I have used language as the sole mourner of message.

I have written more of dead poets than of the free hand

of a disabled
son. I love

(not memory’s
confused
predator

but its kingdom

of broken)

bread.

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