Poem of the Day
The Channel
By Jana Prikryl
Humans are the animals
with speech who let all of his manuscripts
go poof.
Humans are the animals
with speech who let all of his manuscripts
go poof.
I can’t but for doing,
I guess, put my eye
against crossing
unprecious, as song to howl,
as captain to warlord, as wolf
to man, as the wolf in the man
Give me loops.
Give me turtles.
My books remain on the shelves as I left them last year
but all the words have died.
Hermes strapped the beautiful sandals onto his feet,
Immortal, made of gold, which bore him across the wet seas
And endless expanses of land as swift as the breath of the wind.
spring water
in a large low bowl
the carps’ gills
50. When your refrigerator breaks,
51. It’s good to have a job
Inside the head there lives a lonely dog
It is drooling spit
digging through a mountain pile of garbage
three deer, large as memory objects.
They stood in a circle
as if they knew life was a game.