21 February 2010 | Vol. 9, No. 4
Milk or Whelk
Who are you? Tinkerer or whistler? Whisperer or pickpocketer? Specter or wren? If a riddle, then answer in static trapped in antennas or flash powder dissuading children away from the dark. If not, when weather registers music in our bones, then answer with glass antlers shattering or stars carved of paraffin. Once, I dreamed of paper targets of a prey rare or fleet enough to make me turn away the gun. Then in my turning, I saw grease fires rouse and roust a prowler from a roadside ditch littered with flashbulbs. A million phantom limbs swim in a river in search of their turgid bodies drowned within it. A larder filled with vermillion birds burns. Or, it doesn't. Or, it does, and the birds release singing from the ashes, answering with black notes repeating.
About the author:
Brennen Wysong's poems are forthcoming in Copper Nickel, the Corduroy Mtn., Word For/Word, New CollAge Magazine, and Bateau Press. He has published poems in GlitterPony, Denver Quarterly, Fourteen Hills, Xantippe, and other journals. He live in New York City with his wife, Debra, and son, Calder Birch.
For further reading:
See the complete list of work by Brennen Wysong at 42opus. Browse the contents of 42opus Vol. 9, No. 4, where "Milk or Whelk" ran on February 21, 2010. List other work with these same labels: poetry, prose poem.