THE HILLS ARE CLOTHED WITH GLADNESS
Where the vale meets cerulean and curdles lush
Brides twist over ankles Bleeding silk
Memory cuts a scope in the desperate grass
Unwell eyes bubble in
O artificial heat on a rainy sunday
I beg your ceiling for a friend & i clock those steely termites
they are nearing they are nearing
MOUNTING THE CHERUBIM IN DARKNESS
Wind-cupped inside a volcano Howling at the husks of nightclubs & cowards
While batteries river their guts out
Inside dusk-dried rivers of lion
I’m flying and i think to myself about beauty or beauty’s dimness
Thru that puncture in my cerebellum
I hear your nose refract & flutter
SCATTER THE NATIONS WHO DELIGHT IN WAR
Through my spine I beg for solemnity
A scattering
Ground-glass movement Strings across the fault lines Mammal tears pinch down a statue’s cheek
While the misty soil of thunder crushes through
I’m cradled in these bitter alms
I’m bugeyed in the intersection Catching your compass on my tongue like a prison-break
HER GOWN IS INTERWOVEN WITH GOLD
Glorious movement of coprophagia An outrageous negligee curls its larynx
Laughter sews craven every thing
Heiresses skin cattle
for this this meek parade An unconcerned lesion a burning bridge
youre goin down
I forgive the cowards when they only falter I forgive my cowardice with beneficent terrorism
PJ LOMBARDO is a poet and book critic from New Jersey. He co-edits GROTTO, a journal of grotesque-surrealist poetry. His work can be found in The Quarterless Review, Mercury Firs, the Brooklyn Rail, Lana Turner Journal & elsewhere.