Douglas Cole

On Entering

The question is,
what is that woman
looking at
as she stands there
next to the town sign,
umbrella in her hand,

The men are out there
working on the power line.
The white church hovers
in the green field.

The old house is
a burned husk
with a shadow in the attic,
overlooking the water
and the clouds traveling
endless white and gray.

The Bog

You’ve got to watch out
when you cross that bog
if you stop you’re gonna sink
lose a boot or worse
and men coming down
from the bar to smoke
have gone missing
only to turn up later
with a hand sticking up
out of the sand 
or a foot poking out
of a cliff wall
bog men bobbing around
in the liquid underground
eyes staring into spark
of stone against stone
as gel flesh rolls fluid slow
through collisions and explosions
in the black strips of sediment
so keep moving and step light
and fill your lungs with air

No comments:

Post a Comment

The views and opinions expressed throughout belong to the individual artists and may or may not coincide with those of the other artists (or editors) represented within the magazine. Hobo Camp Review supports a free-for-all atmosphere of artistic expression, so enjoy the poetry, fiction, opinions, and artwork within, read with an open mind, and comment wisely. Thanks for stopping by the Camp!