Author: Staff

CHARLES WRIGHT
Gate City Breakdown

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Like a vein of hard coal, it was the strike

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but I am afraid the eagles have their own theories of joy

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Dark Matter. / It can’t be seen. It holds us together.

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Having / inherited this current form

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FOR WHOM AMONG US HAS NOT FELT HERSELF a CIPHER

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You have my word on it hand on it /
a book a note a dying sun behind a cloud

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I had /
a love. A blue /
kite untwisting /
the sky.

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the news: yr dead, I look /
at the page, grow /
broken at the root

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Here they are the words fluttering in the mind

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so banal a demand it went unnoticed