Bowl of Light - The Argotist Online

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cloisonné What on earth does that have to do with anything art can say when art says anything at all it tends to echo from tinny speakers smelling like the rotting foam they shed, motion is entropic too, muscles flexing in the friendly confines of this second-run buck-a-day theater of the mind and if you could see them fall you would remember where you and yours, sitting cloistered volunteer peonies, the edge of the orchard, used to sit and sway, the game the game, was to match the movement of the delicate heads bent low under the sun dropping ants for you to burn that was long ago of course but yesterday too, and now when the winds blow, was it real or not, you still have the sunburn doesn't that mean the cost of childhood is written in the scars on knees the scent memory locomoting through this house your head and the oil spill behind the Red Lobster leaves peculiar messages only translated in the moment and saved for a later that never comes a hidden treat in the bottom of that winter coat.
glass and bone (-Ed) Crushed by gravity and looking up from the bottom / attack this living thing this man inside is not me though we chat / beautiful in the jar - mostly one-sided, it's true / some retributions hang from if he could be anything it would be me in a wheelchair / the lips of the infirm; but be sure my toenails are painted black / swollen gutters shedding last year's I dread fungus And in the kitchen you would find all the usual things relatives just as real and breathing as they were when you were all fifteen years younger and the glare in your eyes was just a reflection of the coming moment and not the screeching cacaphony of a shell falling like an oak leaf, the wrong time of year it's the wrong time of year Children gather round we're all children. / leaves in a rainstorm
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Bowl of Light C. Brannon Watts Argo
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Bowl of Light
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owl of light I. The feckless rule t
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V. cold arms and questing mouths of
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the ignorance of lost causes Coloni
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poet of my youth, fragile hate and
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portrait of my unease. I can do not
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intelligibility comes and goes I wo
Page 18 and 19: dandelion What is it, exactly what
Page 20 and 21: Ninety Degrees “Spaceship Earth i
Page 22 and 23: here, and them Your deadspace collo
Page 24 and 25: ut oh, delicious child. gloryman Ta
Page 26 and 27: punching clouds Fucking process cur
Page 28 and 29: on arrogance Of course you're beaut
Page 30 and 31: interstitial We've made disastrous
Page 32 and 33: miraculousviolentwintermoment Here
Page 34 and 35: with you, I can smell where you hav
Page 36 and 37: you and weight.
Page 38 and 39: the pornographia of substandard min
Page 40 and 41: in a forest drizzle-whispers cross
Page 42 and 43: everywhere below the belt Nickels f
Page 44 and 45: there is nothing I can do to steal
Page 46 and 47: Hubble repairs notwithstanding When
Page 48 and 49: inertia I await miracles same as an
Page 50 and 51: when When women get together they t
Page 52 and 53: lasted all over the road with billb
Page 54 and 55: dance hall explodes, killing one fo
Page 56 and 57: how punk All these men nab carrots
Page 58 and 59: your family and all you hold in you
Page 60 and 61: faery Mound glittering electric som
Page 62 and 63: splice the mainbrace Splice the mai
Page 64 and 65: sound 1. "Organized religion has do
Page 66 and 67: glorious on a cellular level Her fa
Page 70: C. Brannon Watts is a poet and educ
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Bowl of Light - The Argotist Online

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