Mess of Blues

Vandal Poem of the Day: January 29, 2020

 by Tom Pickard

an embattled horizon
and a silk storm of subtle rain at the window
I thought was you

packed up and portable
I’m ready to run

I heard a gun at dawn
a fuckwind shot and screeching

what carries forward is love
—what a mover!
sleek hips and hanging loose
can I come over?

I kiss your punches, embrace your kicks
gan on, beg me to die for you

although your love turned toxic
my breath stops when you hurry past
to lock up the chickens, clutching a fag

from The Dark Months of MayFind more by Tom Pickard at the library
Copyright © 2004 Tom Pickard

Used with the permission of Flood Editions.

Published in Poems Tom Pickard

This program is supported in part by a grant from the Idaho Humanities Council, a State-based program of the National Endowment for the Humanities.

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