Five Poems


Austin Miles





land into capital



tungsten +


         the soap

         the soap


+ progress thru levels: fine green


         the myriad lawns

         the fine automobiles


i love the houses when they are cash +

         i look @ them like i look @

         the horizon







expropriated cell machine



riverine stranger; smoothest rocks

         where is it going

         that rock


when i skip it it

         splashes my gut


my arms are, basically, weeds

         my eyes are a sort of machine







mundane worlds in need



tranced out on leather smell


         am like what when faced w it


         the makeshift fires

         the varnished decks


         can’t choose between hamburger + hot dog







forget mental stuff



u don’t kno

yr creeping aches yr leering glances

on a lost home     yr mind

a drowning



trouble urself                w representations

still water

it ripples blinks irregular


here is a place

here is a place

good, + u can







semiotic work



the boat floated—

the boat floated


in it, the turtle kids

red + wet

stuck in a metaphor

they’d laugh









Austin Miles lives in Columbus, OH.  He has poems published in HUMAN/KIND, Dream Pop, the tiny, and elsewhere.



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