Member since July 1, 2009 | 4,203 Readings |

Thomas Gibney

is the poet laureate of abandoned boxcars.

Recent Work

Brooklyn by way of Piedmont

(1)

677 views

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

Poemnation

(0)

861 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)

771 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)

1,894 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....

Subscribed by Thomas Gibney

6.9

Sarah Louise Garrido

(0)

9 views

I swallowed your seed whole / took a form of you into my mind // phantom man, phantom plant // awaiting its debut // can you believe the promise /…

5.15

Sarah Louise Garrido

(0)

20 views

After that winter it’s been a while / but the rains came back // At home in another weather // The problem is you / is what I love most can’t be…

HEAVEN IS FULL OF GARBAGE DISPOSALS:…

Meg Hurtado

(1)

68 views

It all began with cherry blossoms, // cake, a swimming pool. / // It began again by refrigerator light, as so much does. / From bed to…

3.29

Sarah Louise Garrido

(0)

23 views

White blossoms, I catch my breath. / Shapes I’ve seen before a hundred times before I wake / I try to make you come. I let it out. // Trees glutted…

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