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March 14, 2016 / barton smock

{drone, sum}


[mother on earth]

how horrible it must be for god to know he can read.

we’ll take them all,
these animals of disabled children.



to slow the scarring of god, the man spits into a can plucked from the river that washed his hair.

to hasten

the woman
her mirror’s



the words have left me. as for shaken baby
syndrome, you gave

that shit
to yourself.

wild goose, reappear

is what I would say
to the wild goose.

the last copy of mama’s

the copy
that makes



tonight, I stole two beers from my brother

two gods
whose vexations
a city

I am still not sure
what I’ve requested

or sanctuary

I don’t pray

I read a book to see a man do nothing

to see a man do nothing to a woman
I volunteer
for sleep
and read
this back

to the lord



not one thing
has the devil
made a satellite



has only
the followers
it takes
from melancholy. a dog

a dot
of a dog
see it
the secret


[I have]

a disabled

and the chance
to destroy
my body


publications, Barton Smock:

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