Category: 54 @ 27
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Inkwell • from 54 poems at 27
Her house was underground in a town that ends in “A” her daddy was a preacher but the preachin’ wouldn’t pay when her brother tried to drown cause he didn’t wanna grey I tried for days to reach her but she took a week to say meet me in the roundabout in the town square…
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What they Chanted • from 54 poems at 27
Out of the sidewalks & into the streets Out of the sidewalks & into the streets Out of the sidewalks & into the streets If there’s no justice, gonna be no peace, until there’s no more killer police Hey hey, ho ho, these killer cops have got to go Hey hey, ho ho, these killer…
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In the River of Man • from 54 poems at 27
find me in the river of thought and event carried by the current of contemporary men see me stack their pebbles higher into my modern wall damming up their river into my waterfall genius ain’t meaningless its genus is in genes from us we can’t be me till me ain’t we original hearts make original…
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If Ever • from 54 poems at 27
If you never wake I’ll die and master beside manner just to be the first keeper you see on the other side And if you lose the faith I’ll study eighty tender reasons to wait Cause I’ll never go Never leave you alone you can’t chase away this chaser won’t outpace this pacer I’ll never…
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Lexi’s Song • from 54 Poems at 27
All the ice melted leaving dark snowmen every forty feet And all their plastic bones are exposed. All the glass open every screen up But the radiator’s set to a hundred and four. How did we go from the frozen circle of Lucifer and plunge into another myth, oh a lake of fire? I remember…
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When it Hit the Saltlick • from 54 poems at 27
when it hit the saltlick — sunlight — crystals added white to what’d released its color when it hit the snowfall — dayglow — crystals made it better, bright Salt of the Earth adults drawing from light’s abode magnificate Innocents in their first flurrious attempts at changing the landscape(s) together? Not. White. unbright, unilluminated melted,…
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Fall Into The • from 54 poems at 27
There’s a gap in the platform between the train and the earth you can fall right through it mind the gap. There’s a gap in the sidewalk between the grate and the earth you can fall right through it mind the gap. There’s a gap in the windshield between the crash and the reaction you…
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Vox Dei • from 54 poems at 27
Within my mind there hides a whitened stag whose face appears those times I find my voice. I saw him first within the books I write though handsome, he appeared robed like a hag. He offered my overgrown mind a choice: To keep on writing the story I’d found or follow him forward into the…
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The Wreaker • from 54 poems at 27
every tree torn down through the wrath of a terrible twister every branch broke off at the paws of this barreling bear all these homes, how I know they’re reduced to embers all our homes – so many triangles cut out of squares take one Omnimax camera and stack it up on top of another walk…
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Aftertastes • from 54 poems at 27
I’ve wondered at the flavor, at the tastes of hidden things I have licked the air to savor scents unknown – from palate, wings. I’ve dipped my thumb in The Thick Of It and stuffed it in my cheek and held it there till it dissolved— tobacco, so to speak. I’ve bit into unbitables: like loss…
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Beckon • from 54 poems at 27
When you walk between both soundhouses You will see that the lighthouse ain’t the only keep emitting sense for the feelhouses – those phalluses – reach, tingle make the hairs… how they stand on end, shivering. And the scenthouses billow upwards, smoke signals of the fragrances, fair and foul, to come: ethereal masts. When you…
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Greenwood Cemetery, Mid-winter’s Night 2015 • from 54 poems at 27
solid ice erected a sheen over thousands of shipmasts, hundreds of spires I looked again through black wrought iron spikes beyond their frozen ocean wave to the light some faced – others ignored – beyond the second wall of steel. orange warmth washed over mistless masts stark-set against blued half-things, vapors, half-trees, half-stones, half-beasts there roaming…