Long Flotillas Poems

Rejection Slips 2

The Shape of Mourning
by Michael R. Burch
 
The shape of mourning
is an oiled creel
shining with unuse,
 
the bolt of cold steel
on a locker
shielding memory,

the monthly penance
of flowers,
the annual wake,
 
the face in the...

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Lozenge
by Michael R. Burch

When I was closest to love, it did not seem
real at all, but a thing of such tenuous sweetness
it might dissolve in my mouth
like a lozenge of sugar.

When I held you in...

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Prose Poems II
by Michael R. Burch

These are prose poems (is that an oxymoron?) and experimental poems...



briefling
by Michael R. Burch

manishatched, hopsintotheMix, cavorts, hassex (quick!, spawnanewBrood!); then, likeamayfly, he’s suddenly gone: plantfood.



bachelorhoodwinked
by Michael R. Burch

u are charming...

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Tonight the act of naming fell through the floor.
We speak permeable solids inflect’d by light.
Things move indistinctly: a pine palette floats
momentarily from semi truck’s bed, crosses
its body with windshield; ovidian shift from a
Forest to an...

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When anarchy consumes a barren soul,
the hatred overwhelms the beating heart.
It sickens minds and steals the body whole  
then rips the cloth of empathy apart.
Existence lies between what evil craves
and what your world may...

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The Evolution of Love
by Michael R. Burch

Love among the infinitesimal
flotillas of amoebas is a dance
of transient appendages, wild sails
that gather in warm brine and then express
one headstream as two small, divergent wakes.

Minuscule voyage, love! Upon...

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In passing, the waters cleave the landscape heart,
Taking on their travel, in their course, parts of the land;
In passing, we hikers in that current,
Return to the seas and become as the sand.
In passing, the winds...

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This Regency Dandy flying across the river,
                        
    ...

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[starboard port]

the ocean—an onyx plate predawn—
somnambulant ships preen with a swag of
warning lights

massive hulls: cargo ships, flotillas, tankers,
passenger liners loll; red lights buss
the somber slate of sky—spangled strings of 
bawdy bulbs on the riggings—pole dance
beside...

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Pointedly poignant points portend pointillism.
Pontiffs pontificate pointless pointers ponderously.
Pompous poems populate Pompei pottery potently.
Porous pornography portrays Portuguese porta potties.
Poppies pop Popeye’s popular popcorn.
Populist populism pots ponies properly.

Blithering blather blots bloody bleeping blips.
Bloomberg blogs bleach bleating...

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This woodland stream could be a small English river,
it dibbles and dabbles, it meanders, and has the air
of an old water way, one that never saw the need
to rush or gush.

The small ripples pace themselves;...

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A thunderstorm passed over, 
gun turrets flash.
gray hulls rumble and roll
above tumultuous clouds.

Evening commences to weep -
an aftermath,
a damp emotive capsizing
that barely touches upturned faces
yet it washes fright from brows.

As seafaring battles go
it was a...

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A thunderstorm passed over, 
gun turrets flash.
gray hulls rumble and roll
above tumultuous clouds.

Evening commences to weep -
an aftermath,
a damp emotive capsizing
that barely touches upturned faces
yet it splashes fright onto brows.

As seafaring battles go
it was a...

Read More