Skip to content
June 19, 2017 / barton smock

vertices

a female bodybuilder is yelling at her father for refusing to turn off the mower. a half-naked boy on a bike coasts past them both in the direction of a woman who’s professed to have a snake that’s all ears. I am in a third floor apartment crookedly hugging a window air-conditioner I nightly dream has fallen. my kids are together on a bottom bunk under a blanket stabbing each other with a pair of scissors from the mailman’s last meal. the neighborhood widows lean on separate swing-sets and shape their memories of toy pianos. I can hear it now my brother saying that any and all travel is anti-childhood as he explains to my mother why it is that grief gives god closure over exit to the subconsciously alone.

June 17, 2017 / barton smock

chronos

god exists because my body was never found.

a lonely boy
hears fire
yell. I point

and babies
crawl.

June 17, 2017 / barton smock

beheadings

poverty is nothing more than jesus pouring milk from a soldier’s helmet into the nest of a delirious and elsewhere bird. how long have you had that invisible mirror? I can’t taste blood. fever is my mother’s crown.

June 16, 2017 / barton smock

{boy(s)}

15% off all print books on Lulu today with coupon code of LULU15

I recently self-published a work there called {the boy who touched all the eggs} which includes three previous full-length collections as well as some newer poems. book preview on site is book entire. if you’d like a free PDF, or a free hard copy if reviewing, please send a request to me as such at bartonsmock@yahoo.com

book is available here:

http://www.lulu.com/shop/barton-smock/the-boy-who-touched-all-the-eggs/paperback/product-23225174.html

some poems, from it, below:

[toothache]

wrapped head-to-toe in toilet paper, he’d still ask for a cigarette. does this kid scream suicide to you? it’s not sexual. the name of my animal

is shape. remember the face we saw in the bruise?

~

[axiom]

I am the weakest person my brothers don’t know. I go with them under a blanket we won’t all come out of. hell of a word, hovercraft, but not a sucker for meaning. god torches the bathroom then speaks farmhouse to the father of the accident that never happened. I have a tooth or two knocked in by a footprint. a tick I call dust.

~

[bring roach]

how long might satellites mourn? sickness took the lord. a scarecrow the pulse of a cricket.

not every image was worth the effort.

~

[agonal]

the wolf in stork’s nightmare
speaks dolphin

what do I miss

my blood
your collection
of pea-sized

pillows

~

[untitled]

why does uncle
love baseball
and throw
so hard

what’s a city

kid I come before you
knowing full well
I won’t remember
my answers

the left hand is for pawing
at the broken
rabbits, these buildings

think god
will jump

who does memory
impress, who

can it warn

/ I left you for nobody else

~

[keening (xviii)]

I am the least, no

I am

look what they’ve done
to the lightning, dad

to your scarecrows, mom

all the toilets were in the trees
the trees were taller
a flat

bird
how
the fuck, roadkill

was on
the moon

~

[keening (xix)]

a chicken with two heads. a burning bush. a cane only a dog could love. a barber whose hair, nevermind. an arm cast bearing the hangman’s faded autograph. invisible milk

and the nothing you bring to my godless poems.

~

[flights]

i.

a brother
on the roof
with his raft

and the white mouse
his baby
takes
like a bottle

ii.

the coming
of radar’s
crow, the lights

of illegible
ambulance

~

[entries for pedestrians]

the future sees itself as a man unable to be forgiven in an Ohio of pawn shops and nakedness

~

[entries for children]

remember, it is dark and memory is god painting with the blood of those he would create

~

[annihilatives]

as drawn, the boy’s
alien and cow
evoke rescue

dream: a toothless sheepdog is spooning roadkill in a wax museum dedicated to famine

go on, birth
take silence
from a baby

~

[cattle]

father won’t say sea. there’s land
and there’s land
underwater. troll

eats architect. in a field.

~

[goat season]

brother kicks a turtle
down track
and trains
take only
deer

~

[contact]

mouth, scene one. a rocking horse drinks from a toilet. there is a ghost in the basement. a girl is circling the neighborhood in the car she was hit by. her skateboard misses one shoe more than the other. it seems to her that maybe far away a fetus is fixing its hair. she is not the focus.

June 15, 2017 / barton smock

{arrow, and}

the boy who touched all the eggs
11.00
258 pages
published June 2017

a combined publication of three previous works (surprise for me a crow / name calling / paw five) as well as some newer poems

is here:

http://www.lulu.com/shop/barton-smock/the-boy-who-touched-all-the-eggs/paperback/product-23224033.html

June 14, 2017 / barton smock

marginalia

for John-Paul, Noah, Jacob

I have avoided you
my brothers
like salt
will
a bruise.

I have used language as the sole mourner of message.

I have written more of dead poets than of the free hand

of a disabled
son. I love

(not memory’s
confused
predator

but its kingdom

of broken)

bread.

June 13, 2017 / barton smock

{dome}

barton smock's avatarkingsoftrain

still have two privately self-published chapbooks {BASILISK; the accepted field} available in hard copy and free to anyone making said request to bartonsmock@yahoo.com

~

most recent full-length collections:

{name calling}

9.00, 110 pages, published March 2017

http://www.lulu.com/shop/barton-smock/name-calling/paperback/product-23117082.html

~

{paw five}

9.00, 130 pages, published May 2017

http://www.lulu.com/shop/barton-smock/paw-five/paperback/product-23198602.html

~

a poem from {name calling}:

[the boy-sleep of his hands]

/ a pair of scissors in one room or a gun in two. a thumb war’s lame spider. four rootless prayers drawn on an echo. four awestruck sisters caressing with their ears the undeveloped skull of an infant. melancholy’s condoms. flowers for the arm-wrestler’s inoculated phantom.

~

two poems from {paw five}:

[ballerina]

dog whistle, nothing’s church-bell:

my mother, handcuffed
still worships
wasp

~

[mothers, acoustic]

we are maybe
inside
an Ohio
factory

childless and ready

for a refresher
on orphan
etiquette-

word is
there came
a cow

View original post 12 more words

June 13, 2017 / barton smock

tying the lost shoe

the grotesque cloud
of birth

the treehouse beatings…

for what
on earth
did I make
these faces

June 13, 2017 / barton smock

mislay

it won’t occur to me
how clean
is hell

(the eyes) (have arms) (but not) (hands)

the ghosts of my son

they get
along

June 12, 2017 / barton smock

thirst rag

mouth a souvenir from the exodus of shapes-

her mom
ate something
blue