Child Cemetery: Poetry of Jeffrey Merk
There in the weeds is a car door,
With broken glass and an armrest.
I was at the bakery asking for
Cake-mix, because I wanted to
Bake them a cake. And winter,
Without a snowflake left-over
Decided that we’d be in trouble
With the law, before high noon.
I’ve been picking over her abdomen, Deciding if the fatted calf drinks blood. Something tells me a lot of buffalo Use to drink at...
We had a cabin up Spider Mountain that Zombie’s Couldn’t get in past the tree line. In colonial America, In the early, parts of the...
Safe in bed, safe in bed I am! In my cubicle, in hunger And darkness, and stillness, Remembering a winter scene. Trees in a...
Comments