Drawings
i.
a mosquito
on the thigh
of god
losing
its mind
ii.
an old
idea
one had
of stars
iii.
waiting with an uncle
for any
colorblind
doll
to pass
the salt
iv.
child in a hospital asking does time have enough
food
v.
is snow
the mother
of distance
Beginning Ache
the crow’s fear of inclusion. eve’s perfectly
forgotten ribs. the nothing I mean to my
dentist. the cemetery where all the un-boyed
went to eat paper. the band-aid in the belly
of a baptized child. yawn of kites.
Lit Ache
upon waking, my son knows he’s been moved.
beside him I am crooked until he bites my arm.
he is as heavy as the stomach of the angel that
nightly kisses mine. illness has the patience of a
shadow but cannot teach my eyes to kneel.
time is god’s tenure as the lost tooth of sleep.
Stem Ache
in your ear is a spider afraid of the way I swim.
I remain made of
nothing
the winningest
prophet
Tame Ache
soap carvings
of birds
pulled mostly
from a son’s
thunderstorm...
here and there
a worm
wrapped around
a stone.
all imagery is the same.
if the food
is in your mouth
it’s too late.
—First four poems above are from Barton Smock’s self-published
collection an old idea one had of stars (February 2020). “Tame
Ache” is from his collection Motherlings (self-published, June 2019).
Poems appear here with his permission.
is the author of a full-length collection of poetry, Ghost Arson (Kung Fu
Treachery Press, 2018); a chapbook of poetry, infant*cinema (Dink Press,
April 2016); and three self-published books of poetry. He lives in Columbus,
Ohio, and writes often at kingsoftrain.com.
