dream’s oldest pig. stork’s
bucket
of footprints. god
the signal
it sent
pain passes out. boy is almost
body.
the hands
they look
unswallowed
but (dear hate)
I’m the same
person
I always
wasn’t (tree
with frozen
stomach) (the wrong
grave) (movie)
that ended
god
just a note, Lulu has extended the 40% off (CYBER40 coupon code) thru November 30th
thru November 27th, Lulu is offering 40% off all print books with coupon code of CYBER40
my newest is:
{everything I touch remembers being my hand} / poems
172 pages, 9.00
/ as always, will send free PDF of the work to anyone requesting. also free hard copy to anyone interested in writing a review. such requests can be made to bartonsmock@yahoo.com
// book preview on site is book in its entirety
/
selections from {everything I touch remembers being my hand}
[from ~ we brought home the wrong dying baby ~]
I ain’t been talked to in so long my wife’s kid thinks I have amnesia. ain’t been touched since Ohio’s ramshackle symbolism swallowed up some organ donor’s shadow. I went yesterday to a funeral for a woman’s ear. told people what I was wearing was a bedsheet belonged to the man in the…
View original post 256 more words
birth
knows everyone
(I know by cobweb)
the childbearing age
of a ghost, that dream
has taken
mirror, and also
that I cannot reopen
the mouth
my mouth
erased
memory (my
mother’s)
of personal
space
thru November 27th, Lulu is offering 40% off all print books with coupon code of CYBER40
my newest is:
{everything I touch remembers being my hand} / poems
172 pages, 9.00
/ as always, will send free PDF of the work to anyone requesting. also free hard copy to anyone interested in writing a review. such requests can be made to bartonsmock@yahoo.com
// book preview on site is book in its entirety
/
selections from {everything I touch remembers being my hand}
[from ~ we brought home the wrong dying baby ~]
I ain’t been talked to in so long my wife’s kid thinks I have amnesia. ain’t been touched since Ohio’s ramshackle symbolism swallowed up some organ donor’s shadow. I went yesterday to a funeral for a woman’s ear. told people what I was wearing was a bedsheet belonged to the man in the moon. told myself I had this microscope could see a ghost and that I’ve only ever lost an empty house. I don’t know how old I am but I know what year I want it to be. before dying I saw it flash how I should have died. low creature. tugboat.
~~~
father an optometrist inspecting a replica of a totem pole and mother an eel collapsing at the thought of a play performed in a stone.
and there, at the bottom of grief, a cup of dirt with nothing to bury.
/
[from ~ in this life another is you ~]
water, make your fist. hold your breath
in a single
fish.
/
[from ~ food ~]
how to bathe
a red chameleon
from the childhood
of Moses
~~~
books to step on, scarecrows
to kiss.
animal
a thing left speechless.
night
a lost
suitcase.
the apple, the quiet. brother’s
double
nodding off
on library’s
secret
horse.
door songs.
mother, mother, father-
/
[from ~ soft facts ~]
body
like some use an alias. fingerprints
manna
for hand.
–
I was dreaming I guess
in the face of brevity
–
of god’s glassrabbit ocean
/
also, please check out and consider submitting to {isacoustic*}, here: https://isacoustic.wordpress.com/
work on site so far:
four poems by person Adam Hughes:
four poems by person Jon Cone:
*** also on site are reviews by myself of books by Sarah Marcus, Ruth Awad, Darren C Demaree, and Kaveh Akbar
the lamp
eating
its bowl
of light
kingsoftrain 