lovesong for punk ghosts i
even th tranchalas are dead
in th house with a thousand clocks.
th house yr grandfather built.
someone else is wearing yr shoes.
a dog is barking in th house.
th house you still can’t see.
i want to touch yr stonewhite hipbones.
in th house with a thousand clocks.
th house yr grandfather built.
someone else is wearing yr shoes.
a dog is barking in th house.
th house you still can’t see.
i want to touch yr stonewhite hipbones.
lovesong for punk ghosts ii
you will see a sign. it says:
proceed down hallway to the first elevator on the right.
take elevator to level P,
turn right--down hallway
you will find yr mother
she will not be crying / is
she ever not crying / this time yr not sure
it’s not wrong/not wrong/not wrong /drive all night to find yr truck stop
it’s closed now / boarded up / th kids are gone / you still have
someone else’s highschool jacket in the closet / it’s a lie now
it doesn’t like you anymore
what bushlings that don't matter
you so smartsoftly watch
all the trees that fly by and
don’t meet my eyes; your hands
and the way they flutter, serenely (my father
with a gun in his lap but)
we die and feed the plants and
(he doesn’t tell you to come home);
it is beautiful and sometimes
i don’t want to go.
all the trees that fly by and
don’t meet my eyes; your hands
and the way they flutter, serenely (my father
with a gun in his lap but)
we die and feed the plants and
(he doesn’t tell you to come home);
it is beautiful and sometimes
i don’t want to go.
Rebecca Brown recently moved to Alabama to pursue an MFA from the University of Alabama. They spend a lot of time getting lost, sometimes on purpose. More of their work is published, or forthcoming, from Skydeer Helpking, Banango Lit, and Jenny Magazine. They can usually be found on twitter, @babookreader, or on tumblr, notamountain.tumblr.com.
