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July 29, 2016 / barton smock


with fire
the funny bone

the fence…

stray thing
from dog’s

July 29, 2016 / barton smock


older poems


[dream’s fossil]

dear eggshell belly. dear mother. dear church of my father’s owl. dear Ohio. dear owl the deaf bee’s church.


[the lost]

before it is dark enough to carry the television into the forest and leave it, a mother checks the oven for her loaf of black bread. her overseas child follows a dead fly to another dead fly and so on. her sensitive brother turns over in his grave to be on all fours. her wiser husband rips the cord from the base of the television and uses it to whip the basement door. when the door opens, any dog will do.


[men hermetic]

the crow
the fine print
of nowhere.

the bomb shelter
the rumored locale
of a mother’s
laundry room.

the bare cross
the teething
a baby
for the neck
of the woman
for her junk
to fall.

the mare
the anxious


[cessation psalm]

the less said about god’s addiction to brevity

as heard
by the angel
of birth


note: 15% off all print books and free mail shipping on Lulu with coupon code of SHIPSAVE16

as such:

~shuteye in the land of the sacred commoner [& other poems]

reading from:

~MOON tattoo

reading from:



most recent reading:

July 27, 2016 / barton smock

make trough

some eyeless thing eating for none

a volunteer
to snipe
the crucified

appetite’s bedsore

a baby taking up for a chicken

July 25, 2016 / barton smock


15% off all print books and free mail shipping at Lulu through the 31st with coupon code of SHIPSAVE16

my books are here:

some poems from books available:

[male music]

in the creek of tomato silence
where my father saw
what it was
could not eat
there lives
a tiny whale
by emptiness



what bone am I, stillness?

what can I tell my son
I carried?

what is it knows me
that isn’t god
by the humans
I am
in my sleep?

infancy, what overtakes
your period
of mourning?



I am kicking myself over the surprise my brain ruined. nearby, a man misremembers his trip to heaven while a woman blames herself for making it doubly hard to leave. the size of my death is the size of any deer would die for a sugarcube. my father can’t find what he’s wearing that isn’t his. mother she is off buying foods that share a ghost. I call to my sister but know openly she hasn’t been deaf from the day god believed her legs were part frog. I have not heard of the spoon that has a past. something in my stomach wants to see a star.


[church bell]

the waters recede and god

good for him

with the carcass
of a deer

parking spot


unrelated, I have begun to see

the fat kid we surrounded for pulling a knife on a bird

July 25, 2016 / barton smock

wrong teeth

the boy
is today
a bloodhound
the lone
of his mother’s
handprints. as another,

he once
a horse
to a woman’s

/ give suicide someone to widow

July 25, 2016 / barton smock


the boys are off to hang a turtle. I didn’t know I felt nothing. her father impressed a piano from puppet heaven. but pregnancy was all god knew.

July 24, 2016 / barton smock

depictions of reentry (xxii)

I was
for desperation
a woman
crawling away
from her walker.

I still, gender, have
your raincloud.

/ nothing whispered is a language.

the mouth chews on its ghost.


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