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August 28, 2014 / barton smock

catch

your sadness ran as a midday special on nailgun accidents in my area.

if I stay in one place, my mother will die of sleep.

ideally, it’s the image I have of realism.

August 27, 2014 / barton smock

persons

self

is what I hold
when holding
that

thought

-

as I await
the cyclical
study
of your

poverty

have this friend
says
he’s still
inside

the dryer
had me

burned

-

I have seen
already
my mother
before

she dies

-

because the thing
is a thing
made of wood
father

as if he’s not held
a crowbar

enters

as if
it’s god’s
dark

the night

-

it is mom
the sound
mom

hears

-

if you could take
one paw

from my dog
and replace it

with a hand

which paw, whose hand…

August 25, 2014 / barton smock

payphone

as I go
in
one ear
and out
the same

my brother’s kid
comes to
in the mind
of a beast
that
like any
beast

exists
as its own
memoir
of unreported

sightings
made
to chart
god

by sound

August 22, 2014 / barton smock

some bread, some snow

to god

god is
to some

some bread, some snow.

to a recovering aesthete
such as yourself

god
is an occupational
hazard. to collectors

of inexperience

such as
the virgins
god, as subconscious

measure, created-

god is the vague
self-involvement
the mind
for body

devours. to the parents

I brought upon
myself

god
is what
appears.

August 22, 2014 / barton smock

sway

boy is, when sad, what father

dusts off
and coins
anew

(this was your mother’s)

qualifier-

(your mother is a lemon
god’s lemon
tows)

but back
to scarecrow, as in

scarecrow lucid, the formless

boy with knife
in lacking
wield

slouching
before a blank
television, his missing

tooth

false

August 21, 2014 / barton smock

perhaps a fan for the corner of his desk

if it’s no trouble,

I was
to my infancy

everything

August 20, 2014 / barton smock

dominion

outside the dream, this anger.

the kids are happily
the kids. they think

to paint
the nude
mama
with snow
one must
more quickly

create. I am here

to pin my sadness
on

its applicant. when first

I was poked
in the ribs
how hard
I was poked
in the ribs
didn’t matter.

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