god as the complete
thought
I shared
with death…
skull
short
for squirrel
and poem looked to me like the eyesight that stayed behind. claw and wing were the oars of my father’s blank craft. every boy in Ohio was a girl in a bookstore caring for the latest creature of a flat god. sadness hadn’t yet moved on from its stick figures and mothers were still blowing into perfectly round balloons. pale dog drank from a paint can. color could see, and see only, the future. a pinkness left my brother for the wrong kind of milk. sister had been hugging those angels
couldn’t bend their arms. zero
(that wizard
of the non
event)
was buying up land.
her eyes
loot
the imagination
unfortunately, still true
through December 11th, Lulu is offering 15% off all print books with coupon code of LULU15
my newest everything I touch remembers being my hand is here:
(book preview on site is book entire / free PDF to anyone requesting / free hard copy to anyone interested in writing a review ~ contact bartonsmock@yahoo.com)
~
I also do a partial and pretty horrifying reading of the work, here:
recovery is a prison run by fish.
light’s one song-
the past is bleeding
in one dream, a carousel horse. in another, a stomach.
–
dream is a shortcut
AT isacoustic*
https://isacoustic.wordpress.com/
CONTRIBUTORS:
Jon Cone
and the heart-ache
that occupies the land is yours alone in hope. – {from} YOU ARE NOT LATE, IT IS ONLY THE PRELUDE THAT PLAYS
/
Adam Hughes
Tonight the fugitive gods limp
away, – {from} Kemper Street Hymns
//
Leanne Drapeau
the body broken,
poured out. – {from} love has all its teeth intact
///
Agnieszka Mauch
I can’t
move my arms enough to create a
notion of the sea – {from} FURTHER DISRUPTIONS
////
Amelia Kester
I will find
the soft people – {from} BLACKBERRIES
/////
REVIEWS:
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