I read to god in my sleep. One sadness is longer than another. Touch talks the past into choosing the place. A mouse works to erase a boat. Not from the water.
We take one newborn from every search party. Loss isn’t a word, but can’t be replaced.
so I did this really long rather awkward reading from my last two self-publications but I do mean what I say or at least what one can hear of it: hard copies available, PAY WHAT YOU WANT: untouched in the capital of soon, 187 pages poems, Sept 2021 can be purchased via paypal (bartsmock@gmail.com) or Venmo: @Barton-Smock-2 or CashApp: $BartonSmock blood to bathe us in its blue past, 217 pages poems new and selected, May 2022 can be purchased via paypal (bartsmock@gmail.com) or Venmo: @Barton-Smock-2 or CashApp: $BartonSmock PDFs at GUMROAD
Ghost and angel keeping between them their inside joke about bare feet. Glass brainstorming itself into a mirror. The tooth fairy losing a paper cut to god’s last baby. The job, home from nothing.
there the devil shoeless on the plastic horse the sand still here it couldn't eat
Beside a sandcastle a gutted jack-in-the-box goes godwild on being awestruck when lonely
i. A bowling alley just before we know it’s on fire ii. Owl sounds like All in my brother’s mouth iii. sorry, there is not a crow there is just this Ohio building this orange music animals in boxes able to breathe
My son’s invisible art vanishes after I get there. Still, his distracted knives and remembered skulls hand me back the back of my hand. I pray in attics over nothing. His mirror faster than mine.
Brother uses the same doll for surgery that he does for tea. It doesn’t save time, but we’re poor.
kingsoftrain 