POETRY
“Poetry is language at its most distilled and most powerful.”
the strands of your hair on the bathroom tiles aren’t sketching defeat. that’s you spitting disease in the face with another day you’ve woken up to.
The two of us toast to a man we both love, to whatever degree, clink our glasses and laugh…
The poetry of Brian S. Ellis unravels, inverts, investigates, and complicates. His poems are radical koans and invitations to forego common narratives.
I tap at the alphabet while a single deer
taps at the dirt beyond the brush
on the far side of the tree line.
Millions of Americans have been affected by identity theft. It’s probably the greenhouse gases.
Try not to see your own predicament in every fucking thing.
Any still figure at mid-late evening, when the long shadows make even crumbs appear arranged like furniture.
Yes I am guilty, I’m guilty. A sin was desirable then.
Bring the dancer back to the stalks.
I like to think I’m also sprung,
released from the furnace knocks,
done with the heavy meat stews
and salty soups.
Part of being a good sad person
is always painting the shadows
in the right direction and knowing
what sorrow to art with.
we drove on through
the blue seal of morning as the turbines
turned and winked out their hearts