books on arson, grammar, vandalism…
god, multiple owners.
a typewriter
touched by father
at night.
the electric chair my brother imagined
& the hair
my sister…
adam (who’s never known the age of eve
how
to unfossil
the mourned
boy
kissed
we believe
on the wrist
by
(we don’t)
the last
to experience
déjà vu
recent contributors at {isacoustic*}:
Michelle Bermudez
https://isacoustic.com/2018/04/18/person-michelle-bermudez-two-poems/
Lydia Renfro
https://isacoustic.com/2018/04/16/person-lydia-renfro-two-poems/
Clara Burghelea
https://isacoustic.com/2018/04/15/person-clara-burghelea-one-poem/
Chris Shorne
https://isacoustic.com/2018/04/14/person-chris-shorne-two-poems/
Holly Lyn Walrath
https://isacoustic.com/2018/04/14/person-holly-lyn-walrath-one-poem/
~
reflection on Gillian Prew’s ~Three Colours Grief~ at {isacoustic*}:
https://isacoustic.com/2018/04/16/three-colours-grief-poems-gillian-prew/
reflection on Melissa Atkinson Mercer’s ~ghost exhibit~ at {isacoustic*}:
https://isacoustic.com/2018/04/17/ghost-exhibit-poems-melissa-atkinson-mercer/
~
volume third of {isacoustic*}:
https://isacoustic.com/2018/04/13/isacoustic-volume-third-april-2018/
~
note concerning private publication at {isacoustic*}:
https://isacoustic.com/2018/04/12/note-barton-smock/
mother’s
farsick
palm, father’s
pack
of disappearing
nails-
our goldfish
insomnia
the private sobbing of my mother’s hair
how much
did you hear
you death, you hoarder of sick days
if I wheel / my son / do dog
walkers pray
we have in my city a museum just like this. I, too, am private and have lost an unabsorbed child. I am,
inventory, very motherly.
this one-man radio show about a father looking for his mouth. this tornado.
my first owl was a bee-loving tick. my first milk
was jigsaw
milk. being alone went by so fast.
