Category: Poetry (page 1 of 14)
For Your Convenience
The Hybrid’s Tale
Between Fields of Guilt and Preservation
*
You feed these birds at night
the way every feather they use
comes from a quarry where the air
darkens with each landing –it’s Tuesday
and you still have not forgotten
their return for seeds, endlessly
weeping for a missing child
a brother, mother though their eyes
are unsure how to close
when listening for a name, a flower
a river –you fill your hand from a bag
as if at the bottom they could hear
an emptiness that is not a night
falling behind step by step on the ground
–how open it was, already grass.
She is a Meat-Eating Carousel
children love riding them i am part of the game too
but i’m trying to be a bit more civil
i have a megalodon jaw but i only ever touch potato
we are devices that rotate like the hands of a clock
its face only as wide as earth i wonder if i will live long enough
to survive Continue reading
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