Bryan Edenfield was born in Arizona but has lived in Seattle since 2007.
He was the founder and director of the small press and literary arts
organization, Babel/Salvage. He hosted and curated the Glossophonic
Showcase and the Ogopogo Performance Series. His writing has most
recently been published in Mantra Review, Meekling Review<, Dryland,
and Plinth. He is currently one of the Jack Straw Writers for 2018 and
the host of the Hollow Earth Radio program, Glossophonics. Here is
his website: http://wordlessdictionary.wordpress.com.
Places to dwell
The front lawn flooded
but I never knew why;
later behind the treehouse
I lost my grandpa's hammer.
To punish myself, I trapped
my arm in a red C-clamp and
felt poisoned like the caterpillar
caught in a canister without
Places of interest, or
a list of forgotten attractions:
the folly congregation attends
the cloud funeral on sinday, just
beyond the dream green pools
where the crustaceans dance at dusk
in the reef, but before the stairs
to the moon and the lighthouse
billowing steam, inside the toxic
hole of the pilgrims.
is a series of stops described later,
the features of which continually alter
depending on time of year, elevation,
proximity to the equator, and
attunement to the phases of the moon.
The squirrel trampled by elk
takes to the bridge and spring.
Grandmother called it a skeleton
but at crucifixion we call it hello.
The ratios of regret: always a lip
crumbled neighborhood of secrets.
Carefully imagine a fire and
tie a knot around the flame.
In the yard
the skeleton of
the saguaro holds Christ's eye,
an electric light,
deep within its nest and hearth.
In winter, it blinks at me.
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