sacrament

At five o’clock the left side
of your sky goes blind
as the car wheels lock.

A short swim
to a breaker of rocks
yet I doubt you could make it.
More like real age
than anything
written as fact.

Only a short swim to the point one can only
swim back.

No hollow men in hope of penitence.
A number you can choose to call
or not to call.

Had I noticed sooner,
only hell could be as beautiful;
its nightly certain service.

Jonathan Jones is a freelance writer and academic currently living and working in Rome. He qualified in 1999 with his MA in Creative Writing from Bath Spa University College and in 2004 with an MRes in Humanities from Keele University. He now teaches writing composition at John Cabot University in Rome.

He has had several pieces of work published in The New Writer, Poetry Monthly, Iota, East Jasmine Review, The Doctor T. J. Eckleburg Review, Negative Capability Press and Dream Catcher.

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the powers that sustain are the powers that destroy…

the powers that sustain are the powers that destroy

for the moment i hold them in perfect equipoise

Patrick Hurley taught writing and literature at various colleges for many years until he discovered bartenders make more than adjunct faculty and don’t have to grade papers. Now he makes poems. He is obsessed with a long project called walking.

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the beggars from porlock will try to derail your thoughts…

the beggars from porlock will try to derail your thoughts
‘excuse me!’ they’ll shout over and over again
just when you thought you might be on to something

they’re looking for metaphysical spare change

don’t try to get back on track
that train has gone ferrying the dead-eyed hordes
across acheron cocytus lethe phlegethon styx

back to their suburbs

Patrick Hurley taught writing and literature at various colleges for many years until he discovered bartenders make more than adjunct faculty and don’t have to grade papers. Now he makes poems. He is obsessed with a long project called walking.

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nature’s not a uniform green and old walt…

nature’s not a uniform green and old walt
never measured the handkerchief of the lord

abide with me in contradiction

i’ll grow so vast all opposites will be contained within me
nations and churches will cease to exist

everything decays in time
what rich black compost it all makes

Patrick Hurley taught writing and literature at various colleges for many years until he discovered bartenders make more than adjunct faculty and don’t have to grade papers. Now he makes poems. He is obsessed with a long project called walking.

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the gates seem forbidding but stout souls will enter…

the gates seem forbidding but stout souls will enter
at first the music from within will sound dark
if not discordant

change your ears

simplicity contains within it
the root of all complexity

abandon serial fantasies
repetition doesn’t exist

there is a sound imperceptible to dull ears
the crowds will laugh and jeer when you start to dance

pity those who will never hear the music

Patrick Hurley taught writing and literature at various colleges for many years until he discovered bartenders make more than adjunct faculty and don’t have to grade papers. Now he makes poems. He is obsessed with a long project called walking.

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escape as a concept is pure distraction…

escape as a concept is pure distraction

effective movement towards any cardinal
point must be predicated upon some
subtle interior transformation

even from the standpoint of a supposed
objective observer situated let’s say
in such a way as to observe without
influencing the observation

even such an observer could track
no movement that wasn’t insincere

the language of exteriority and directionlessness
will forever mark our circumambulations

Patrick Hurley taught writing and literature at various colleges for many years until he discovered bartenders make more than adjunct faculty and don’t have to grade papers. Now he makes poems. He is obsessed with a long project called walking.

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memory is fragmentary and there is nothing…

memory is fragmentary and there is nothing
to be assembled or reassembled

beware the cyclical fallacy as well as
totality’s siren song

can a solitary particle admit of possession
even while aggregates shift and morph
relentlessly into brightly colored patterns?

seductive…but in the end—if there is
such a thing—merely hypnotic
or narcotic perhaps even
arteriosclerotic

Patrick Hurley taught writing and literature at various colleges for many years until he discovered bartenders make more than adjunct faculty and don’t have to grade papers. Now he makes poems. He is obsessed with a long project called walking.

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