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March 29, 2016 / barton smock

(-)

if touch is all it can manage

the hand is poor.

I am the new face
of baby
doorstep.

when lightning
has emptiness
to burn

feed
the fasting
doll.

March 28, 2016 / barton smock

(-)

existence is the wrong inquiry. I was destroyed by an angel

for having
taste buds.

a pinkness has always gone on without me.

 

March 28, 2016 / barton smock

{insignia}

via Lulu, 25% off all print books with coupon code of MONDAY25

my newest, MOON tattoo, is here: http://www.lulu.com/shop/barton-smock/moon-tattoo/paperback/product-22621366.html

some poems from the work, here:

[least]

there I was

lightweight, eyesore

baby satellite
and baby
drum

imagination’s
dull witness

my hair
prematurely
cat-torture
grey

my person
the length
of a sandbox
shovel

teeth
a tooth, a commandment
from the past
lives

of milk

[harrower]

it is easier now that I know I was never going to be a better person. if I once called poetry the grieving arm that ends in five short complaints, I am sorry. I watch my son lick the space on the table where he’ll put his cheek. it is not for me to believe he is a sign of warnings to come. the distant memory of his tongue is not mine to betray. I want to kiss you to the sound of god counting footfalls on a mountain path. for one, I have never been completely covered in bruises. also, I was in the spotlight when my mother was asked to describe a sponge. instead, she identified the break in the letter where a father changed pens and childhood as the longing of Eve.

[On suicide]

I was here long before you guessed my age

–

(our proverbial sister dons again the birthday suit of body language)

–

the dog won’t eat. might it know

we come from the family of sitting and dying?

March 28, 2016 / barton smock

(-)

it’s all in your head. the newborn we had on a mountaintop. the word it knew from memory. its hand that stuck to everything but the dog our dog ate. the cold our dog died from. the tent we called aquarium. that we filled with diapers. that was never full.

March 27, 2016 / barton smock

(-)

poetry and god share the same quick death.

I’m on what you’re on;
the eighth day of the world.

March 25, 2016 / barton smock

{MOON tattoo}

MOON tattoo, poems, Barton Smock (March 2016)

available here:

http://www.lulu.com/shop/barton-smock/moon-tattoo/paperback/product-22621263.html

~9.00, 114 pages

~a constant amen.

~self-published. on-demand. no stock to run out of.

~book preview on site is the book entire

~if interested in reviewing, send request for book in hard copy to bartonsmock@yahoo.com

~please share, but I don’t mind secrets

March 25, 2016 / barton smock

notes for eggshell

beneath the tethered astronaut of his dream

the impossible boy
misses

something small

the human ear, its recent
brush
with whale

March 25, 2016 / barton smock

is this the body science left

/ does the demon
know
I’m the same
clue

March 24, 2016 / barton smock

memorial (iii)

memory
has nothing
it remembers
making

–

I’ll know an animal when god sees one

–

the guard
I slept with
gave me
you

–

pain, indicia, Amen

March 24, 2016 / barton smock

memorial (ii)

the boy
whose first
computer
was pain

they put something in his food
to make
him drink…

–

one animal
out of how
many

–

marries

–

to avoid
god