Tag Archives: Benjamin Wright

Prostrate

Gold-pavement God, make me to see the ground, break my knees and push me firmly down, stitch wide my lids, and against the road, my nose press till it break, impound my rugs and slow- ly grind my kneecaps on … Continue reading

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The Word

The fruit was Eve’s second meal. Her first: prime rib, marinated in warm dirt. Adam, that strange, staring man, prepared it with his fibrous hands. His voice was the first sound in her ear. The soft words: Eve, Mother of … Continue reading

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A Theophany of Silence

A shiver of silver—soft, like nighttime haze, visible in its fall and then invisible, intangible, enveloping. Descending like a rotted shower of rose feathers, a curtain of dust unfurling from some lofty dome, some darkened heaven. As it comes down, … Continue reading

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The Juicer

Hot purple, the whole house smelled of it. The giant pot, rust-dusted, gleaming proud, and crowded round the counter, rows on rows of fresh-filled, heat-sealed jars, their cooling tops each popping loud, a witness song of stops so strong the … Continue reading

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A tree

cased in age-dried cracks, a droughted scape of spreading riverbeds, carved clumsy; edges curled like cupping palms. Leaves from too-tired limbs left to fall, dropping rain-heavy to bind with mud their rotting faces to wander-cracking soles. A naked canopy scratching … Continue reading

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