Fat hunger finds a church where Wednesday readers huddle
over the Bible trying to measure how our loneliness moves ̶
the pastor kept secrets, a mother's sleep loss; an uncle who feeds
scraps of guiltiness to roof pigeons.
Sworn knees worn . bosom
bliss closed . Say grace the last fixed wing.
And here's one more, a game bored soul core alabaster, who
knocks on the door; no hymn no hood. And true to faith
the study circle toss suspicion link him in ̶ till he pulls out
the Charleston intervention nobody prays for . severing kin.
Man
kind hands count as grass scythe swings long weeds depose; thigh
organ swells that squeeze the peace released at peak. Okay, but
what does that mean? the delivery man lingers.
Caught you . back
from the camel park where each hump matters . minds jog dark.
Hearts halved bewildered sealed ̶ here's
healing news : custom services resume as Sundays follow uncorked
nights to cold bed rocks . unsaved noons.
With phone cam? Yes, you can ̶
take pictures of Redeemer come high mass : shots overhead of corn
field rich, disciple table; the message belt criss-cross on leader
chest . stones waiting for the devil.
Once 20th Century Studios worked cavalry magic rescuing
blue on silver screens; tears choked you gum chew blood
due burbling up.
– W.W.
[ In mem. Charleston, S.C. * June 2015 * Souls taken ]
APARTMENTS
Between one loneliness of focus called me
and two others over there each called tree
dart two birds unknowing such terms
by drafting ribbons of connection between
isolations of tree and tree and these eyes
and these fingers emulating wings at play,
for what else can a winglessness hope to do
but try despite its cage of terms to be
a bird of language that might start
to reveal the web of invisible links
lacing everything together underneath
this crust of apartments built word by glazed word.
(from "The Gift Of Screws" by Brian Chan)
FARJOURNEY CARIBBEAN 