Tag Archives: James Owens

Sonnet in a Decadent Manner

1. (after Macedonski) Vestals, if the streets throng with nervous cases,             still the sky is filled with stars, the fields with roses. Still today, nothing in nature has aged.             If love and friendship change to greed, if hatred and betrayal … Continue reading

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I saw a redhaired girl walking under sunlit trees

Years later I knew that if I have a heart at all it is a black blade that God whets on a numb stone hidden in his murderous chest, a dry, anticipatory scritch-scritch-scritch. He tests the edge on the fat … Continue reading

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