Artwork courtesy Tex Fontanella and John M. Bennett
He Will Only Be Image
When he’s gone,
over the couch will hover
one spear of light.
I’ll become
what the spear isn’t.
Without body, the weapon
is just some combination
where light hit one thing and spilled.
Prairie Tower
Pine bells knock
where structure erases
and batters to remind.
Longings octopus.
Rage drops a cheek by the puddle.
Giant spheres stain monoliths with light.
The slabs stare back
and wind swears at their edges.
Innumerable Stumble 