No Light in the Firmament

The people smell of clay
Come and go in trains
Rails of a narrower gauge
Overgrown and rusted

Shirt buttons for eyes
Thread and needle, thread and needle tight
And opposable lips alright
But you have not adjusted

Calling home
When you know the wire is
Severed from the phone
Calling home
A penny for a moment
With your ghost
No light in the firmament
Has even claim to permanence
You know

The issues of the day
Window worms all down the pane
Tales of a narrower gauge
Of just who can be trusted

Where your childhood river snaked
They sell t-shirts with the stain
Taking pride in acid rain
But you've still not adjusted

Calling home
When you know the wire is
Severed from the phone
Calling home
A penny for a moment
With your ghost
No light in the firmament
Has even claim to permanence
You know

~ Brendan Bonsack

Softer Times

I knew you in softer times
I don't blame you
It's alright, it's alright
We have to do what we do
Sometimes

We who remain
Are composed of snow
The line on my chest
The depth of your toes
We have to do what we do
I know

I walk the wall
Where the fruit trees grow
Birds stacking branches
And learning to sew
We have to know what we know
Sometimes

~ Brendan Bonsack

Big Fish Little Fish

A magpie delivers
A button to your window
Every other day
Peeling potatoes
Slicing your fingers
Watch them fall away

You lose a tooth
And then another grows
You're genetically predisposed
Just like a shark I suppose

Did you get tired
Of people asking you show
The pointy rows upon rows
Without even saying hello?

A button delivers
A message, your scissors
Trim the bad news away
Smiling for mirrors
No longer for cameras
History lurks in each day

You lose a tooth
And then another grows
You're genetically predisposed
Just like a shark I suppose

A postie delivers
Your laundry list of
Red letters to pay
Attention, distraction
Precision inaction
Potato salad days

You lose a tooth
And then another grows
You're genetically predisposed
Just like a shark I suppose

Your buttoned window sill
Is greeting the snow
And asking it does it know
What are the depths it will grow?

~ Brendan Bonsack