Whatever Country They Exist
I’m making the room
my room with
my hips,
my sighs,
my tired eyes;
and when
she leaves,
she leaves suddenly
and nothing but
her fragrance
delays,
but it’s too much memory
for me to be alone.
hearts
the door, the tornado
that was so big it could hold a thousand hearts racing
at the sight of a face they thought would never show up again
beating down the road like a breathless storm or worse,
finding only the wind’s racket forced into a fist
perfectly rapturous and strange how we’re all picked up
and dropped off at some other threshold. fate and chance
met up this way, plucked and flung in the same gust
like a thousand seeds mingling into entirety.
at the foot of a carved wood desk
Trevor Root is a poet in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. His work is published or forthcoming in :lexicon Journal and Eunoia Review. at the foot of a carved wood desk mother this building my business and here in my ginger ale starving our metaphysics fit snuggly to salt rims on all whims my morning moves drunkenly in sync […]
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Marshall Anderson is a musician, writer, and artist living in Austin, TX. His book of poems Either Side of Your Dreaming (2015) is available online. He is currently writing both poetry and music for new releases. So Many Boomboxes Mandy’s Mom died on her birthday and every August is hard on her. She probably asks God, “Why’d you […]
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