from City of Loss
[10]
This is how you sew a button:
First, put a bullet in the chamber,
dumb-dumb it afore
for better effect;
second, scream into a February
wind as if your mother were
dead and that somehow mattered
to you;
third,
from City of Loss
[14]
When it’s cold, you build a fire,
bundle up, wait for spring.
Actions, movement follow
a slower pulse,
the morning birdsong a little less thick,
but just as welcome.
from City of Loss
[14]
Detritus, wreckage obsequiated plumage,
here and about
where no infant is heard
crying.
Stack one, then another
fault upon your shoulders,
and walk through this thresh,
as others before.
Let dusk come early,
if it has a mind to.
Let what’s been done be done,
heaped upon the pile
that is the mountain
we’ve climbed thus far.
RESURRECTION mag 