Member since July 1, 2009 | 3,342 Readings |

Thomas Gibney

is the poet laureate of abandoned boxcars.

Recent Work

Brooklyn by way of Piedmont

(1)

665 views

I’ve been to Asheville. Maudeville. Dollywood. / The vaudevillian neon ache, the cannibal notions of a circus / population fucked up on…

Poemnation

(0)

851 views

It’s like we’ve said before: earth won’t fluff / its cushions for us, why should heaven? / Idiocy makes for good talk, but / / banter alone…

“I’m alone in the…”

(2)

760 views

I’m alone in the tourniquet of shade in / the garden watching apples assail space / with the way they punctuate it. / / They’re so good at…

Currywood. Running. Noon. Bright.

(2)

1,066 views

Around the apricots. Damascos. That’s Spanish for. / The breeze. Hissing in my. Where did my breath. / I need it back. I’m running. The water....

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LOST IN THE WOODS

Meg Hurtado

(0)

2 views

And so it’s gone forever? Just like that? / The slowest growing forest leveled, set? / I think not. Blue smoke rises; even so, / belief had better…

10.17

Sarah Louise Garrido

(0)

27 views

Forsaking all other / modes of vibrancy, / each lush life / I could have had. /   / Silence pools / in every corner / of our new place. / Even the…

DEAR SKY

Meg Hurtado

(3)

649 views

We were supposed to meet today; we decided this ten years ago, on a patio. We would meet in a little California town known for its songbirds. //…

DEAR JOHN, AGAIN

Meg Hurtado

(0)

939 views

Oh no, forget it, I have everything I need. // This avenue does not matter more than any other. / Lotta music wherever you go. “Does anybody /…

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