CHATTERING OF THE WILD TURKEYS BY JOSEPH D. MILOSCH
As we ate our sandwiches, a flock
of turkeys appeared. They made turkey
sounds as they wandered among
the shadows of coastal oaks.
Select Page
As we ate our sandwiches, a flock
of turkeys appeared. They made turkey
sounds as they wandered among
the shadows of coastal oaks.
The car said all your fault man
Your frontal lobe unfinished
The boy said spring came
Too frigging soon
I dedicate most Tuesdays to ghosts,
they deserve at least one day of devotion.
I am not your friend. I care nothing for enjambments. An integer growing a tail of decimals, I am famous for indeterminacy. Into musical compositions I insert the incidental buzz of strings. From a distance the heavens appear to...
Read MoreMy poems were casements on an eerie house.
They tempted me to slowly look inside
and see what spinning spider there, or mouse,
would publicize the darker side they hide.
It is a marriage bed
Where two lovers lunge
Between living and dying
I didn’t forget about wormholes even after we stopped talking about them
Read MoreYou kneel in prayer, stare
at the steely sky, the iron
stars, the nuclear indifference
of the space between galaxies.
Lucky me, to live so long,
travel wide, career hop, on
and on. Now that’s a life.
Like my cabin, I list and lean toward chaos
Read MoreOf course,
I will miss your hand
