shade our eyes to veil the pain
we leave cemetaries scattered
in small towns, hidden in dense
woods where bones cannot be
recovered. we are a lost highway—
the overgrown and unloved path
set to crack and flame in the
company of crickets and dead
leaves. blown tires and rotted
train engines among the scrub
brush, we throw a tarp over
the evidence, wear out boots
over unforgiving gravel. cities
are just hungry mouths, are a
place to be swallowed, to be
a folded newspaper in the rain.
Bio: Kendall A. Bell's poetry has been most recently published in Olney Magazine and The Aurora Journal. He was nominated for Sundress Publications' Best of the Net collection seven times. He is the author of three full length collections, "The Roads Don't Love You" (2018), "the forced hush of quiet" (2019) and, "the shallows" (2022), and 32 chapbooks, the latest being "Still". He is the publisher/editor of Maverick Duck Press and editor and founder of Chantarelle's Notebook. His chapbooks are available through Maverick Duck Press. He lives in Southern New Jersey.
No comments:
Post a Comment