Paul Cunningham

ONE HUNDRED ACRES (RE-ENTRANCE)

fraction-clotted
this re-read

this pedigreed English double

old serum surfeit new
Who-Bear entered

One Hundred Acres

lawn-clotted, the green of am-bushes
Aren’t gory Are tautegory

am-bushes, these woods
[I] knows, blistered

AM something
else, early

like petals of
mushroomed bullets

extended chokes / trunks
& palm-swell

soft-recoiling

One Hundred Acres

leafy, extended chokes
gloss-finished

 

 

 

At least there is an immanence of trees, thought Who-Bear.

 

 

By Paul Cunningham

(Pittsburgh, PA, USA) manages Radioactive Moat Press. He holds editorial positions with The Fanzine and Action Books. His writing has appeared in publications including LIT, Smoking Glue Gun, DIAGRAM, Witness, Tarpaulin Sky, H_NGM_N, and others. He is currently a MFA candidate at the University of Notre Dame.