Constance Campbell is the founder and editor of poetry journal, WILD
. Her poems have appeared in Borderlands, Lilliput Review,
Di-Verse-City and online at She lives in Austin, Texas.


The doctor leans over, his bright yellow eyes
like ripened moons, descend and enter
the boy's forgotten bones. Drums rise.
Dark signals dark. The gods begin to stir,

like ripened moons, descend and enter
the loosened earth, spinning their
dark signals. Dark. The gods begin to stir
the hollow gourds now drunk with air,

the loosened earth spinning there.
The doctor's breath splits into a scream.
The hollow gourds, now drunk with air,
shake to break away the dream.

The doctor's breath splits in two. A scream.
The boy's forgotten bones drum, rise.
Shaking, he breaks away from the dream.
The doctor leans over his bright yellow eyes.

The Question

He asks her if they could
start over

She smiles and says "Let's start
from here
not waste our valuable time
covering the tracks
but leave them there for others
so they may find a scent
and a trail
and themselves

(Thoughts on Huff's Memorial)
Note: Albert Huffstickler (1927-2002 ) was the unofficial, but undisputed,
poet laureate of Austin, Texas, for many years. More about him at this site.

And there were stones, Albert,
and there were stones
and the stones were smooth
and the stones touched
each other and touching
they spoke

And the stones said


these pearls

gathered and cast

The Body Speaks

I remember the sun
as it lit on my cheeks
and shoulders and hands
and flip-flopped feet

being small


to reach the honeysuckle vine

anticipating sweet
rewards for my stretching

In, Of All Places,
A Big Chain Bookstore

Synaptic connections were made.

The sacred spoon conducted eco-
systems where metaphor evolved
to split and gather atoms. There,

Mercury! There is the flashing
signpost! There is the current you'll
plug into one fleet toe at a time.
Blasting cerebral dams right and left,
your winged alloy cap, white hot from
genesis, fuses.

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