Tuesday, May 28, 2013

4 poems || John C. Goodman

the road

night naked
words curl
listen to the evoke
liar several mistake
ensnare aural unsatisfied
re-given fastidious undulate
enough argument tired
limbs of cool wind
limbs of dusk
too little too much
the rivers asleep
the road

scattered          is
                the light
shredded in fragrant sorrow
confettied memories
spilling at the lip of remembrance
                water over an eyelash
“incarcerate,” the watchdog said, salivating
embroidered enigmas in the night

there must be an exit
                a way to spring the trap
“it was always that way,
the traffic, the exhaust,
it was never a release.”
                the life we forge in chains

freedom falling
                silent pieces

                curved swallow wing

lineated space
abrupt discontinuance

unfinished crossing
                We are not done
                We are not done

lines of vague beauty

the woman in the sundress and war bonnet
                takes aim
writing lines of vague beauty
                on the backs of envelopes
sea urchins cry in the night
                for their homes in the deep
what grave panoply is this
                when what was forgiven is taken away

No comments:

Post a Comment