by Michael Morell
Hitch
black-and-white highway stretches
straight to the horizon
under black-and-white sky
use your thumb
as a divining rod
to discover the bodies
or the person
who buried them
Ce Qui Manque À Nous Tous
Only a child
could point
at the corpse
of a just-hit deer
and ask “is
that alive?”
excited eyes
sparkling in
the dusk
in our tired
existences
we’ve forgotten
that once
the deer
was truly alive
Three of Wands (Reversed)
you have learned
that while it is
difficult to zip
yourself into
a bodybag, it is
not impossible
Robert Beveridge (he/him) makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry in Akron, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in Red Coyote Review, Deep South Magazine, and Aromatica Poetica, among others.
Michael Morell is a poet and photographer living in the suburbs of Philadelphia, PA. In 2017 he earned a Master’s in Applied Meditation Studies, and in 2019 his first book of haiku and senryu, leaf raking, was published by buddha baby press, an imprint of bottle rockets press. He enjoys bird watching and spending time with family. Follow on Twitter @michaelnmorell.