today the color of bruises is beautiful green like tornado skies fade fast like good days eight ball in the side pocket beer foamy in the pitcher everybody knew today the rips are fresh in flesh frayed like denim knees fade fast the sun downs bicycle frame in the back seat water cold in the … Continue reading
revelry in the woods magpie on the gallows ropeless and unsturdy impossible angles they creep up the path a mass like fire ants dancing near a cross washing sin downstream to the mill wheel to pound out piety the rocking horse rig leached history from our core dinosaur bones and ore dragons in the castle … Continue reading
Sometimes you sleep on your stomach, An elbow’s crook consuming your left cheek. Perhaps, then, you’re tunneling toward creation– The way you tell it–that violent instant Frozen, captured in the pressure of an eyelash On an arm. But today you’re on your back Sprawled out on the floor, a universe In repose. This is the … Continue reading
Halfway between Chicago and the coast, somewhere west of Laramie, I splayed an animal beneath the wheels at eighty miles per hour early on a starless August night. There was the thunk of it, the splat— and still the highway unwound through the blackened west. The gospelers from radio Del Rio scarcely paused in paving their highway … Continue reading
I remember, you were pointing a stick at the moon, It was the day before the wolf bit you. Near to that incident with the toothpick. You were with a girl who rubbed brass for a living. I remember, you had a signed edition of a box of bags and were dating an ex-nun. Around … Continue reading
God spat an ocean, shat the Alps, pissed torrents and waterfalls, God wasn’t beautiful and frightened the curly-headed kiddies and nuns. God drove by in a beat-up rust-bucket, whistling and shouting and waving a gun. God played the spoons and bummed quarters by the entrance to the liquor store. He planted timebombs in the hearts … Continue reading
growing pale and bloated they sip fast food coffee and share stories both glorious and deprecating in overalls and mesh baseball caps faded from Saturday games at midway stadium peanut oil thumbprints on the brim where they lifted them off their heads for the national anthem all but one who is smiling in his black … Continue reading
Can pick Any lock This is not A test Of Feeling At noon My shadow Seeps into the ground Like a wound The last time I looked I was still there Drunk Asleep on the porch in Omaha Each eye wrapped tight Bulging with imitation midnight. Continue reading
When I see you, I’m going to wish you a merry Christmas. I’m going to show you my hands and tell you how they used to shake. I’m going to shake when I tell you. The snow blows sideways in Cleveland. Our cat keeps track of a single flake and follows it with his eyes. … Continue reading
Robins have no red breasts, pale orange iron-poor blood, powerful perhaps when romance dawned and poets place robins in phallic phrases, pumped hormone full of summer’s heat, slowly drained through centuries into springs diluted behind closed doors and drawn drapes, when everyone sits inside and watches sunrise on TV screens. Continue reading
Coe Review 