Dogs' Teeth

We keep sharp thing around us
like dogs’ teeth set in firm jaws
and minds of their own

We keep prisoners in the silence
they have found as refuge from the world
and the sanity they betray

We keep deep dark lands no more
fearing that over which
we do not dominate

We face grim death
with every slow thoughtful breath
we take

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Poetry

Good Boys by Megan Fernandes

Experiential poems, thick with place and introspection. Last lines I highlighted (from “The Poet Holds a Gun”):

beam the most affectionate kind of love
which is love without sound or dialogue

Not Poetry

The Herbert Huncke Reader edited by Benjamin G. Schafer

Herbert Huncke was the New York denizen of the 1930s and 40s that the Beats used as muse in the 1950s and 60s, and these are the journals he wrote himself. Last lines I highlighted (from “Faery Tale”):

and the room returned to being just a room and the garden became a few trees and bushes in a back yard—and the bird song became a cacophony of twittering and chirping—noisy and a bit irritating

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