ditch,

the poetry that matters

Keith Higginbotham

Keith Higginbotham's poetry has recently appeared, or is forthcoming, in The Beatnik, Blue & Yellow Dog, Clutching at Straws, Counterexample Poetics, Eratio, Liebamour Magazine, Otoliths, Sawbuck, and trnsfr.  His chapbooks are Carrying the Air on a Stick (The Runaway Spoon Press) and Prosaic Suburban Commerical (Eratio Editions). He lives in Columbia, SC.

 

 

 

Revolution

the unromantic hunt, a word

fragrance:

let’s go grab

a lecture, let’s burglar

the contrived

 

lyrical

homonym

costume of vaudevillian doors

 

cube the jagged clock, amplify

the bourgeois

ghost of religious

offshoots

 

juncture the least word

of seeds

that shutter the miniature

 

question

 

the expanse of automatic

tablecloth

 

pristine, let’s

 

go from work to

the groovy war

 

 

 

Metal Cities

beam anything ground: interconnected curfew

caps night and dribbles of cardigan

 

Victorian in sleepy and

not

over

rainbow ashes

 

at memorial: far in new southern

sheets the others

power night

 

some path a bustle night on cringe 

stand things hush books being—that &

a public horsehair nude, lead parlors, and the

cold

novel breaths vortex covered

radar the

 

stone and the ring cobblestones this

corset reading while shredded

walks the no to

soap

 

I’m Buddha

dotting hoaxes of you

 

 

 

 

Wildflowers

 

saw me like dark hangman's

silk                 let stand your

border grave

 

insensitive      submerge

your sleep knife            night

 

edges to

the prop of you

 

and that staged language of

the muck bird’s

window              sticks

 

it’s the greener of waiting to

quench the restless

 

        escape of quicksand

  ancestors

 

given into its punctuation

a smoldering

 

    embrace

 

 

 

 

Dreaming Weather

 

cow eyes taste:

in chair. ridges.

 

boys

fur the stout

brims

 

admiring callous

ringmasters

 

admiring my

seat.

 

spring: and hiding

hands remember

zoo of buses.

 

spring, you have

reeds, have rabbit

in bayou.

 

 

 

 

October

 

 

i.

 

lion kitchen sandwich

in

 

safe

 

its pit a catalogue its fire in

meaning showed white

breakdown

 

burn heart logs fracture

 

October /

last

 

roadside a grizzly

waterfall

 

 

ii.

 

my muscles in the wall

country lung dropping rain

 

on

 

the bridge there

were blue trees

 

from stones

 

 

iii.

 

grass place palpable

the eccentric road we

made be

wild

 

side two:

 

hung / a children

 

 

iv.

 

coffee on stars:

its

 

the museum’s subplot

/its awry

 

/you are

 

speechless / the

the pretty

razors

 

undrink

 

the inbox

 

 

v.

 

or tulip silhouette

white obvious

revolution

 

to further the

anything

‘s

 

salvation off the sun’s manicured

disinheritance

                                                                                                                                                       Jan 4, 2011 Bookmark and Share