October Poem 24: The Roentgen Effect

In the red light of the basement dark room,

I have seen Death dancing. A dim specter

In the dark. A shadow skeleton that

Might not be there. Arms outstretched motioning

Me forward. He has shown me photographs

Floating in the chemical vats. Floating

An accident of exposure. Floating

An artifact of suffering. Of black

Limbs solidified in among the white

Trees of an early snow and short sleeves. Drifts

Piled upon the autumn leaves. Weakened.

Unprepared. My son and I chasing that last

Bit of beautiful weather with a small

Burned out fire and Death dancing us on.
Fraud

April Poem 23: NaPoWriMo

These things is machine.

Skeleton characters at strewn garbage they left

Removed from the Haitian scratch

Carpet mummy’s revenge.

The bleu that have any extended group of people mourning.

 

White zombie effort problems.

Foresight black, green, and brown.

Of stain, old screen.

Carriage, driver, and their time.

 

And both of the people disembodied.

Their nicknames from the mop of names:

Neil and Madeline serving handle. Black characters,

Years of patina leaning against a people.

 

Passages have come to the island of remnants.

Blender mop, white,

Used in very few places.

Handle leaned zombie,

Afford these the way.

The white actors in black face

By things is machine.

May Poem 29

Speaking of skeletons,

No motions were

Filed by the dead.

May Poem 23

You inhabited it,

The mundane Audubon Center,

Near time and weather

And into the surreal

Holly Springs skeleton rebuild,

Beautiful pie and catfish.