catawba grapes,
spit bugs-
put a name to an event
and make of it a thing-
encode in word & vibration-
(reduction upon reduction)
a cord of firewood split, stacked
hungering clouds of articulation & industry
worlds held by a clownstring
over an inmost bone
voicebox within a box
blues & be gone
sometimes a document obliges
a signature-
mine has
irked me
most of my life
©
's written work has appeared in Flagpole, Figdust, and The Owls. A psychotherapist and social justice advocate, he holds master's degrees from Naropa University and the Iowa Writers Workshop.
Jonathan currently resides in Asheville, North Carolina.
Railey’s poem “Use Good Sense” also appears in this issue.
