Jan 12, 2023

Poems by Joshua Martin

DOWNCAST CRITERIA FOR A CRICKET MUTTERING

The cowering pulse out runs the hare
fields swimming Kentucky carbon-dated odes
a pool of seminars regurgitating secular air
leads and puzzles and impulsive cucumber foliage
yet blotched inscrutable crepuscular suspicions
born of roaring capital limp continents
mourn the land the tracks the jubilant disarray
meagre like buzzards crawling in echoed paradigm
pure massage beating looking-glass stubbled bone
all straining exiles hurling private looping toads
shrouded hearse plucked a wig
square a burning century of cinematography
pressed cooked knee length confessions
masked yawn shivered drop of rot
naked swift privilege shifting scrutiny
staring at carnal ruins splayed before a wax grove
chipped like primal shells scatological and narrow
astound where ceilings offer empty jaws
crooked public toilets disappearing
within melancholic collapsible courthouse
insecticide possessing downstairs groaning
only splits rising and steel-rimmed in recall
as each session of grouping ponders buried cities
pleasant befuddled hills reduce mediations
grandfather following afflictions
messing timid gorge stretched thinner than paint
sainted vagaries leaning over lantern months
grandmother wearing chandelier smokescreen
between us and the vital paralysis wanders splinters
tamed vibrant unless spun from one-way ticket
pirating closer than expected victims of research
spine closing shelf that winking sermons obsess.


SMELL COMES STIFF

We heel
stitched comets
fueling roach shoes
chewing belly
aching backwards
pedal to milestones
oozing pebbles
like chemical
shrinking mazes
cockatiel mocking
tobacco wanderers
patterned wallpaper
carpeted pranks
we steal
mountain lisps
covered memo
blood thirsty
leg tattoo
shrinking layered
caked on killings
of seagull doggone
old rhyme schisms
occupy humanoid
sunset portal
we peel
plasma asylum
jump backwards
electrical hazard
paying daddy-o
momentum feeding
head full of stinking
lords of attributes
abandoned bile
we deal
mermaid pyramids

Poem by Keith Nunes

THE FLOURISH AND THE FALL Lying down to Take it front-on Look-see What the hell is Coming this way, Catch a sharded reflection In the corner...