 Jake Bailey is a schiZotypal experientialist with published or forthcoming work in Abstract Magazine, The American Journal of Poetry, Constellations, Diode Poetry Journal, Guesthouse, Mid-American Review, Palette Poetry, PANK Magazine, Passages North, Storm Cellar, TAB: The Journal of Poetry & Poetics, Tar River Poetry, and elsewhere. Jake received his MA from Northwest Missouri State University and his MFA from Antioch University, Los Angeles. He lives in Illinois with his wife and their three dogs and you can find him on Twitter (@SaintJakeowitz) and at saintjakeowitz.wordpress.com. Dial Z for SchiZo
I peeled my face to fuck the snow I know/ The raptors at the door They want more / To snare the toe and eye The lie is in the loin / The coin / The calf / Sea parts staff Parts per million Lead paint contains what’s part-of-a-balanced-breakfast A mess / Is the mind in retreat I flee See mouth and mound / Found / Can’t forget Not yet Not now They peeled my face to watch the show They know They know Barrier of Barb The body is a barrier of barb For wandering light upon the lawn Citrine cinders coat the expanse in fire Light unseen in jostling maws They declawed the bears But they stare all the same Being is a chore / When there’s more Of you than is sane The body is a barrier of barb Of bare, of sound The driver swerves over root and stem He doesn’t know these grounds give rise to crack We lack whole, the hole is bulbous knife Life is what undoes the shell And hell is wrought in wrangled snarl It mars the making of the soul Your role is cast The body is a barrier of barb The body is the scarier of sins The body is the body is the brain A stain A fucking stain
1 Comment
Adrienne Pilon
1/14/2022 11:26:58 am
Related to this poem, but also loved the imagery. Leave a Reply. |
