Thank you to Abhilash Frazier and Juan Crevillo for publishing my three prose poems in July's Masticadores Canada.
Survivor’s Empire
What happens below you to those who once loved you? Their fix is in. Their choices are out.
They may not look it, but they are never still at the finish line because that last second is a kicker. Being left behind takes real grit, takes away your la-dee-das, shapes them into goals. Roll the dice left, then right, then flip it around until fate comes swinging your way. Grab the bull by the horns and get the jump. Nothing becomes something when they’re really gone.
The Modern Workings Of A Clock
Put your time’s clock in your pocket. Wait for your checkpoint. Soon after that date
get ready for a shakedown. Beg your pretty please on the down-low. Round and round
and round old mythological years go in the slow times. Examine the do-nothingness you
have cherished. Whether upscale or rat-knocked, cut off the crust to taste the fast times.
What’s what must be kept in mind! It’s too late now. Your coincidence has found you.
Hard Wood Shaking
The mood of western ken prepares and despairs, taking crowds to places which lecture
with a series of sweeping decrees. Radio frequency ricochets to great effect. Glum
namesakes reminisce about the hurried assembled abhorrence at a rate both loud and barbarous.
Industrial transport, bogged down from a general preoccupation with
unexceptional dilly-dally, becomes diminished under beveled regulation, allows for a
larger give. Even the baby pram in the streetreflects agitation from within. What acquittal
can ever be allowed to such a restive and dogmatic crowd? A malady of corrupting
trepidation, sung as a mantra, repeated, repeated, turns out to be branded by a
single-minded mistaken opinion.
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