Arsenic Lobster poetry journal
Issue Twenty-six
Summer 2011
| Home | Issue Twenty-six | Contents | Contributors | Review | Order | Archive | Submission | About Us | Contact Us | Previous | Next |
 
Light at the End of the Attik
Lance Stemen

Orange crosshatch not truly if
taken from an attacked billboard shatter,
reconstructed five noises of sanctuary
lined up as holy books
to subvert the oceans of violation
we drink in our sleep,
we are at the mercy of digital paper,
so dead then. We read light now.
What are you saying? To be in the motion
of light, do you understand?
This is grace. The black plastic square
on the table. It’s been in my pocket since I left,
and it doesn’t have any wear marks.
Take your thumb and flick
it over the fence, for the other guys.

About Lance Stemen

| Home | Issue Twenty-six | Contents | Contributors | Review | Order | Archive | Submission | About Us | Contact Us | Previous | Next |