from, from, crow, &, ethan hawke

[from] The Crow's Book of Wrists
193 pages
August 2024
hard copy, pay what you want
can be purchased via paypal (bartsmock@gmail.com)
or Venmo @Barton-Smock-2
or CashApp $BartonSmock
or Zelle bartonsmock@yahoo.com

..

[athens ohio machine]

A tree will grow around the death it cannot have. Lightning displays only the suddenness of its roots. A deer stares at god. Counts to ten. Doesn't know.

..
 
[blood-colored buses of blue homecomings machine]

A see-through dress
that can’t 
catch fire. A hair

from god’s
failed hair
salon. 

Smoking 

to protect
a strangled
mother.

..
 
[amen machine]

found
that Ohio
child
at peace
listening
to snow
breathe
it took
hours
not
minutes
dogs
in mirrors
dig
dig away
my sadness
a bone
made of glass
how
dumb
I write
poems
about my teeth
and lose
the poems 

..

[erasure machine]

We fund the film of our dying with the money we get from our dead. If you’re alone, say we. Three frogs, one dog, ants. A spider I thought was a tick. The dog was an accident. A friend who doesn’t like my work warned me about that first line. It’s okay, I love my friend. His heart is an anthill of electric longing. He prays himself a redder apple while watching baseball. There are too many handheld things. God can’t be born.

..
 
[police machine]

three
days old
the son
of a butcher
dies
for seven
minutes
longer
than the son
of a sign
maker
it’s the last
unfair
thing
swears
the butcher
his god’s
longest
brain
protesting
perfection

..
 
[athens ohio peace machine]

The baby is sad three times before it dies. At the funeral, we smile with our mouths closed. A singer friend of mine tells me he can still feel the body temperature of a wolf spider in the arch of his foot. The spider is fine. It might be the only spider in Ohio. Ohio is a pharmacy run by children. There’s food, but there’s no food. Mirrors belong to the puzzle piece in my throat. Teeth confuse god.

..
 
[anemoia machine]

a spot
in the human
brain
all my life
a worm
in my son’s
dream
my eyes
tell my eyes
that light
is on fire
that light
can trick
a bomb
it needs
a machine
that uses
men
I am in
that spot
a private
doll
burns
its dick
with a dick
I crush
the doll
it hurts
it hurts
god
fact one
fact two
fact three
on boats
there’s no
term
for suicide
suicide
watch
the bird
sick
sea

..
 
[being my son machine]

ever you see
disappeared
from its own
pain
a rabbit
with no
skull
not stare
at god
ever 
you nod
off
sleep
was bathing
death
looked
how shy

..
 
[close family machine]

Touch touches everything it touches.

The tv
our own
grief
santa

......................................................................................................................................

[from] 57 Letters to Ethan Hawke, or I wanted to stop saying god
hard copy, pay what you want
August 2024
can be purchased via paypal (bartsmock@gmail.com)
or Venmo @Barton-Smock-2
or CashApp $BartonSmock
or Zelle bartonsmock@yahoo.com

..

Letter 082524

Dear Ethan Hawke

The nervous systems of angels. A funeral for a cigarette. There are two Ohios. I am still in my singsong violence when my sister throws her youngest in front of an unmoving farm machine. Sometimes a year yanks a room from death. A wasp eats the shadow of a practice wasp. My wrist thinks I’m brushing its teeth and god is the child who survived my dream. I can’t fake sleep long enough to be healed.

..

Letter 080424

Dear Ethan Hawke

Suicide is the only way to let people know you want to kill yourself. God is just an alien with a tattoo. I say things so finally that my body stops hating me and my soul starts. The angel of clickbait says fucker fucker vote. I don’t want to die. But there has been some criticism.