Three Poems
Paul Shumaker
Thirteen Frames At Once
it’s
its trees
painted circles
noon
lead dissolves
shutter
tightening
glare half
remembered
heat
choiring
grind of
7AM
I hear.
I hear styrofoam.
Box fan.
I holdOctober’s
Thrifty Nickel.
With plastic fork
I crane
another. From
merlot bottle
a cork
under
my knuckle
I soften.
Capsule
sallow I take,
take.
Landscape Without Edges (Collapsing)
soothed
by hyacinths
by neon cached
a lily
dogged
with stucco
around
us fauna
aired
a silo
runneth
we oar
along toying
rolodex
we
leak focal
twang
enough
enough with
capillaries
divorced from
snow
anon sun
clotted our
daguerreotype
I cannot
sunbathe
froth
glassy beneath
my heel
Paul Shumaker’s work has appeared or is forthcoming in Deluge, Word For/Word and X-Peri. He holds an MFA from the Iowa Writers’ Workshop.