D.A. Lockhart
Night comes on too swiftly
in the dusk that hides behind
hundreds of wind turbines,
slow red embers igniting […]
Night comes on too swiftly
in the dusk that hides behind
hundreds of wind turbines,
slow red embers igniting […]
On Forester Pass we shot the shit, crowing to those who didn’t know us, avatars of who we wanted to be. Can- dies crushed to confetti in our packs, bragging about where we lived. We […]
You would’ve had to have been there to see the moon,
bloody as a hemorrhage, beneath the sky, stars scattered
like chippings of bones. So odious it had to be elegant,
hung in the dark’s net, me below the celestial bulb. […]
Falling soldiers and a shoulder
painted the wall red. My dreams
broke the midnight. A dancing body
dressed in fire, the voice of bullets […]
Rivers of me, really—tributaries of the heart
that clip into insect gullets with
such pretty reliability. The histamine bloom
at the slurp site, the flesh splotch
blood-gathering. […]
All night we listened to trains in the dark.
Heard them arranging their mile-long loads
on the field roads leading away. […]
I sit down on the edge of the bed
With my father on the opposite
Pretending that the television
Is not glaring […]
Body and Steel That evening at Ojuelegba, a loaded container fell from the bridge above, and crushed the body of a Hausa merchant beyond recognition. I also felt nothing at the first telling by an […]
I forget the Czech for “stamp” in the post office and start making up words instead the number of times you must say any name out loud to make a spell of the sounds: reporacle […]
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