Two Poems

 

Adam Fieled

 

 

 

 

Apparition Poem #717

 

On why it has to be that writing

comfortable garbage is the inevitable

byproduct of living comfortably, with

each fresh hell I wonder why the hooks

towards artful utterance are set this

way, & why I must become such an oyster

just to confer into a leaking bucket,

insecurely hung from abraded cables,

a blue droplet not even of blood but

of nectar, or wine, or whiskey— 

 

 

 

Apparition Poem #1344

 

That there should be bodies

strewn across every road is an

axiom only applying to roads

worth crossing— I shift in my

checkered flannel, as lumps of

hair, flesh, piss, feces, semen &

blood pile like moss & fern under

me. That this should be me over

others who gets to cross this road

is a mystery I leave to the sided crosses.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Adam Fieled is a writer based in Philadelphia.  New releases include the re-release of the Argotist Online e-books The Posit Trilogy, The Great Recession, and Mother Earth.  A magna cum laude Penn grad, he edits P.F.S. Post. 

 

 


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