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TimBOWLING |
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A boarder coughs in an attic room, a child’s fever breaks, dark branches gull the glass of an upstairs window, and someone reaches for the Seneca on the shelf.
Old houses.
Something is happening at the end of their long hallways: the heart of the past is foreclosing on itself.
From Selected Poems (Nightwood Editions, 2013)
This is the only letter God will ever send you. And if, opening it, you expect answers, advice, condolences, you will find a signature of bone. Otherwise, a great hunched watchfulness will leave your body, and perch on the black branch between stars.
From Selected Poems (Nightwood Editions, 2013)
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These texts are published with the kind authorization of the author. |
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