in the crush of
early morning fog
in this country of
missing fathers i am
waiting for myself

the dead have
all been born as
birdsong here and the
god of starving dogs
paces my street with a
young girl’s blood
staining his

i let the curtain
fall back quietly

let the light
of the poem flicker
and gutter out
but always a half-beat
too late

the house is on fire
without warning

the baby is awake and
and all the doors are
locked from the
other side

this is the story i
you telling

the final psalm in the
book of rusted chrome
and i never asked

This content is for Basic Member, Friends of Burningword 3-Day Pass, Friends of Burningword 3-Month Subscription, and Friends of Burningword Annual Subscription members.
Log In Register
Listed at Duotrope
Listed with Poets & Writers
CLMP Member
List with Art Deadline
Follow us on MagCloud
%d bloggers like this: