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