My Father Hears Breaking Glass

pops a clip into his handgun presses both ears to the door left hand taut upon the handle waits... bursts out into darkness street lamps distant spins like cops stroboscopic precision one pound steel held high two mammoth hands sight lowered, aimed, trigger finger gun dog stiff... two tiny culprits run leaving smashed Christmas bulbs in the street he pulls back grudgingly too bad, he says, ìtomorrow, we take our lights down. [...]

By |2016-01-01T15:31:45-05:00January 1st, 2016|Poetry Corner, Uncle Don BF Fanning|0 Comments

We Turn It Under

by Uncle Don BF Fanning we turn it under till the ground and chew up roads and bones spreading dreams across our fields they say rotation spares the crops exhaustion so it is we move our commerce to newer quarters our money once had substance and nutrition but we've freed it --- given souls to numbers and capital's the thing that migrates, now, instead of us, consuming star spawn while we're left [...]

By |2015-08-03T01:12:26-05:00August 3rd, 2015|Poetry Corner, Uncle Don BF Fanning|0 Comments
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