Child Cemetery: Poetry of Jeffrey Merk
The bare trees in the apple orchard
Throw themselves at the mercy of the court.
The spiders in the bins have gone
Into hiding in the corners.
The Queen Winterborn grows hungry
Tell her to brush the snow off her
Garden chair, she orders the cooks
To prepare a special dish for pain
Confusion will reign in the Isles, for
Seeds were sown from the spring
Ask me what do, I dream. I
Will tell you I live in the past, my Queen.
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...
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