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November 25, 2016 / barton smock

{pictures of god don’t sell}

because:

33% off all print books on Lulu with coupon code of BFRIDAY33

/

most recent, {hick lore rabbit hole]:

http://www.lulu.com/shop/barton-smock/hick-lore-rabbit-hole/paperback/product-22914385.html

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all publications:

http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/acolyteroad

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day one:

https://kingsoftrain.wordpress.com/about/

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face:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC6WuSKK8yNnngtdNlb5NfwQ

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contact:

bartonsmock@yahoo.com

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poems, unresolved:

[opening line from a year with mother]

it crawled out of me and knew your birthday

~

[horseface]

you strike me as an invasive listener. I love your body. loving mine doesn’t mean I’m not okay wearing too many clothes. does this make me look alone? like, crucifix-on-the-dashboard alone? my mother fell for my father because he couldn’t find a finger to write with. horror movies lift me from poverty into a long period of healing followed by a jump scare. earlier, before you bled into a corncob, my brain had you as a spider spinning an infant. if it pleases god, I’d like to go somewhere time hasn’t been.

~

[extramural (iii)]

the fireplace is on drugs. get the good rope and tie it around the wrist of the hand I want dead.

on a drive I’ve undertaken to see my brother, it comes to me that odd things were being sold. jesus-on-a-stick. the crown of thorns, extra. I close my eyes. I dare the brain. the brain says it’s off to be forgiven.

brother has one ugly foot and one beautiful. I have this disorder causes me to fully remember dreams*

*dreams only

everything happened in 1985. words don’t mean. numbers mean. tell your gay father he has nothing to do with himself.

the wind is asleep. it sleeps outside.

~

[the butcher]

most babies here are born without a trigger finger.

but some
get through.

~

[themes for arrowhead]

if the damn thing is a boy, let it have a knot in its stomach. if it’s not one twin, it’s another. if a girl, find a woman who’s been to nothing and back.

bring me a fat tick from the dog of baptism. owl from the hair of god.

~

[the boy won’t eat]

to him, these meals
are small
fictions. there is

however
some truth
to his mother

the weigher
of light.

~

[screen (ii)]

while investigating the disappearance of her father’s belly button
my mother was killed for wearing a wire

~

[north of amen]

from the double vision of a dead parent’s dream shiner
to reflections
on the body
art

of departure,

long live possession.

~

[naming ceremony]

I was born
impossibly born
addicted

to the sound
of footsteps.

god

loves the woman
who makes the bed
of his last

believer.

~

[my sister, the stick]

a small fire
in the room
with all
the pigs.

a school
without
a shooting.

~

[interpretive work]

prayer
as the horn
the car
carries
into
a tornado. touch

as ventriloquy.

~

[uppers]

god gets fucked-up about which hair to harm on your head. in some, this goes on for years. I have a lucky razor, a father who’s blind in one hand, and a suicidal thought that scares me to death in front of cops. my last meal came to me on a toothbrush.
~

[lists (vi)]

tragedy
to an angel
is

the ghost
of an alien

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