{thru Feb 1st}
the amnesia
of my jack-in-the-box
gave way
to boomerangs
and motion
was the capital
of grief
does this thing / with her voice / the boys
they all pray
for the knee / of a ghost / an egg
hatched / in the heartbroken
fog
Ion Corcos has two poems at ~ isacoustic* ~
Billy Burgos has three poems at ~ isacoustic* ~
this story again
my flat
brother
on his bike
with baby possums
eight of them
under his ballcap-
the mothered vehicle
of home, the doubled
kindness
of road
and kill-
how taken
from heaven
we lived
newborn
with back pain.
(the cigarette that takes the pulse of our ghost)
it is raining
on the feet of god
kingsoftrain 