Excavation Before my lips turn blue from the altitude I’ll speak a preemptive testament Ahead of schedule: The eyes of the dead in the sky How they named the constellations It’s an excavation Those you remember And those you don’t All … [Read more...]
Three poems by Nate Maxson
The New Year The cinema show behind us rages like a storm to static Silhouettes for the voyeurs, flashing documentation of bruises shaped like butterflies Sown to shadow and the ticking of waterwheel sized projector machines What water rattles down … [Read more...]
3 Poems by Nate Maxson
Rocket Science We used to send monkeys Ahead of human test subjects Brief astronauts to test the water, blow on the soup before swallowing Into the substance: an evolving arrow with sudden green buds/ atremble Not from the sky, no But … [Read more...]