C.M. Dreibelbis
Pantoum in Green
an epoch ago
you buried our house in the backyard
and waited/ the bench full of creeping (growing) things
i took lessons/ horticulture – cultivated and choked.
you buried our house in the backyard
our inventions, broken pottery, and the shadows we cast
i took lessons/ horticulture – choked and cultivated.
i drank and i yelled and all the plants, ornate, green, and invasive, lived.
our inventions, broken pottery, and the shadows we cast
are always unearthed/ “the old dog barks…without getting up”
i drank and i yelled and all the plants, ornate, green and invasive, leeched.
i stopped seeing. stuffed memories into my couch pillows. candy wrappers until i got sick.
and waited/ the bench full of creeping (growing) things.
unearthed by the dog who can’t get up
until i got sick and buried – a creeping (growing) thing
an epoch ago.
i feel better knowing i use you. a vessel to ruminate.
Thomas Harris Strokes a Possum
In the picture he’s sunlit and haloed
cradling
the long pink snout
all instinct faded
toes splayed
above leather
suspenders
“This is a damn slippery planet”
On the Prospect of Moving Home
What haunts me?
A)
B)
C)
D)
[copout]
What doesn’t?
Savannah is a haunted city. It becomes a joke that people are scared to laugh at in Midnight in the Garden of Good & Evil.
The dead dog is on a leash that a living man still walks. Kevin Spacey’s character, following the verdict but before his death, becomes such a figure. The story is still being walked now.
C.M. Dreibelbis is a writer from Duluth, Georgia that is currently based in Reno, Nevada. She wants to write a series of movie review poems, but it hasn't happened yet. She works with her friends on a poetry IG, @losduendistas, and is a huge fan of @landlinepoetryseries.