Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Half-found ~ Heath Brougher



Waited here
knees deep within ivy
becoming the soul, nature big
and growing into veins
maybe trees are status quo
oblivious people of forest
untouched by the toxicity
of the postmodern-day's chemicals
lurking reasonless idol grabbing
I clutching for the delivered dream
word cultivations catch
in downhill fire
now uprising is the speechless sky
striking sensatious leghair
over skin a reason blooms
a piece of the piece and peace
narcotic is here feeling halfconsumed
as an integrel flake
of silverselections—
heady wigs made of walrusfur
skyward seems true
a morsel of a tinybig particle
[of an aggregated whole
a hole within a hole
filled with many holes
inside the hole]
whimpers smiles humanless
when you are there—
whether tomb or dirt or concrete
all really meaningless in the end
bury me naked in the dirt with no casket,
[just dump me into a ditch dug in
a cornfield or a poppyfield
and let me get back
to feeding the earth]
cold aching hungry
hunger of the spirit unfed
all this postmodern food dried up
and poisonous a downfall
of quality in every spectrum
of life when games are played
with these Manmade realities
every cure lies in the rows
of different peaceframes
Naure harmonyocean
honey of saltwater burns
the cut closed blossoms
its convincing Blossoms,
pushing on.





Heath Brougher lives in York, PA and attended Temple University. He recently finished his first chapbook, with two others in the works, as well as a full-length book of poetry. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Diverse Voices Quarterly, Of/With, Otoliths, Main Street Rag, *Star 82 Review, MiPOesias, Icebox Journal, Van Gogh's Ear, BlazeVOX, Eunoia Review, Crab Fat, Zoomoozophone Review, Indigo Rising, Gloom Cupboard, Inscape Literary Journal, and elsewhere.



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