Skip to content

Old Uncle

Old Uncle

With cigarette lit, light shaken to smoke
the stained-dark wood humors him, veneer flame
(the face of walnut branch sliced though). Match, tamed,
he holds it up, a thinned threat, a black joke

against the grain. Sputter; laughter, sulphur
eyes burn, acerbic wit. Chain “cancer sticks”
perk him up, the OC litany, wicks
shrunk, properties lost and women’s offers…

palms up for fallen angels, mischief shrug.
Stiff jackknife snaps home. Done whittling chunk
to only shavings, air. Almost a monk,
long-suffering ticks, slowed tock, ignored smug

hound. Old clock yammers on, how bodies wind
down. Key critch, resets from digital watch.


Related posts:

  1. after crack of thunder notice change in the air pressure, a low draws my heat       clouds as angels descend a downpour leaves no part of me untouched, it turn me over...
  2. Forest Refuge Forest Refuge Pass trunk to trunk your movements, a pulse of an organelle in the forest cell. The bars of the conifer grove denote home. The fibrous living welcome mats...

Categories: Uncategorized.


Comment Feed

3 Responses

  1. Very nice — I could never do poetry. I’m more of a prose kinda girl. Is this your poetry lj btw?

  2. yep, see user info for the other ones.

  3. wow.

    I love that this is traditional-form poem but uses language in such a modern, fresh way. “Almost a monk,
    long-suffering ticks, slowed tock”–so good.


    AnonymousFebruary 12, 2007 @ 8:58 pm

Some HTML is OK

or, reply to this post via trackback.