Author Archives: perfectsublimemasters

Bleary-eyed High-beam Strain-glow

Throwing it,                         object-symbolic out window.   Lazy like careful.                         I love through some other. If it’s preeminent,                                     hold back the tent flaps                                     so, I can guess what shadow your                                     fingers make. Has a hole always been in your head? Or … Continue reading

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That’s

Was a name called not often by the few sullen expressions? A caterpillar hugs the blanket edge. Flick match into burn pile. Warrant not avowal of moniker? The strung-outs kiss me on the feet. Tremble asleep and I will not … Continue reading

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Fell: A. The. A,

Drum beat on high-higher tempo a reverberation ripple in-ground— Expect this to be a time of great appreciation. Apocalypse in eyelids.                         Resected vindication.                         Known-world underwater. Andrew Hutto writes out of Louisville, KY. He was recently awarded third place in the … Continue reading

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Murder

“Over the burning marl” – John Milton, Paradise Lost I.295 Easy to assure, to seize by other means the confidence needed to rightfully press down on the applicator. Get it gone out of mind the scenes of pre- projected New … Continue reading

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Spell for Ophelia

            “We’ve heard you were a victim.             Stop crouching in shadows, chewing your hair.”             – “Okay, Ophelia,” Jeannine Hall Gailey You have a copy of Jeannine Hall Gailey’s poem propped in front of the birdcage that sits on top of your … Continue reading

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Aubade with an Unfinished Sentence

            “It is easy enough             to make cedar and white ash fumes             into palaces             and to cover the sea-caves             with ivory and onyx.” – “Circe,” H. D. He asks why Circe turned Odysseus’ crew back into men after turning them to … Continue reading

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Small Things

Those years we lived in a small village in Spain: Pucol narrow streets and beautiful balcony gardens where I could watch the algae bloom from a sea of tiled rooftops. A small one-market town, where we would wait, my dad … Continue reading

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