COREY MESLER

 

IN CHLOE’S HAND AN OCEAN

 

Say a prayer for things lost,

little one

whose hand is only a starfish,

only big enough

for something precious, something

totally ours.

 

                

EVIL GOING ON

 

A silence which tunnels

through my dreams

obliterating remembrance,

cursing the mouths

I have kissed fondly,

is a monster, a foul thing.

And, when I wake,

it’s darker than usual.

My wife is already up,

moving around.  It could

be winter around the

corner, or it could be you,

smiling like a concertina,

beckoning,  Cacodemon.

 

 

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SENTINEL POETRY (ONLINE) #30, MAY 2005. ISSN 1479-425X