Poetry – Year VI – Number 49 – June 2021

Seánce with Fernando Pessoa 1. I, I, I, I… or should I say “we”we know the Anglo-Saxon mindthat desperately seeks and seeks to findthe Truth behind...

Bloodletting Bloodletting,but for the rage. If I cut open my chestsurely all that will come out is the rage, spilling down my frontlike...

Coming Out head-first, blood-slickedhair like a tiny John Stamos.Bubbling with style but no pronouns. Snip the umbilical, suctionand wail, count tenfingers and toes but no sex.

Old Paint Colors Before he died, we shared a common history.The slow unfurling of breath, a womb, twohands, a tapestry of goodbyes in sepia. Aplacenta, grey, buried under the...

Dollhouse I saved the dollhousefor you and you knew ityou knewcoming in the back doorbabies played cheapwe bought it off the streetrich folks' castaway that's why...

GASLIGHTINGNothing can be found hereThere is no space to growThe walls are moving closerI don’t know where to goUp is to the leftExcept when it’s to the rightOutside the sun is shiningBut...

Vespers Update In this season, the sun setslike an afterthought, its lightalready non-luminous. The hills mostly murkwith some leftover mauvethat’s gone flat. But...

BirdingThey are raven-like, dark-wingedmoving toward a tangled nest or like crows circlingseeking their own kindagainst a fog-ivory sky, the outline is interleaved with comingsand goingsbirds-eye criesflybysof...

Three Days An oak we plantedleans precariouslyinto areas not its own. An expert arrives,advises removal.Clinical, he ticks off the steps.Limbs shorn, trunkcut into sections, hauled down,and...

In that said-same second between ...