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SPOOK MOON

Malebolge is a hut under Hell.
Lame sisters rake heat into blisters.

Leaky boots are boats built

Of bones born to burn.

Thunder from corner to corner.

The stars start to come apart.

We pressed aggression in

Pointillisme past measure.

Walking with ephemerides,

In parlor séance theaters.

If Chaos defines not as disorder

But inaugural absence of Form,

Crows sell soot still sew with wire.

Owls sough through horns.

 

WHAT FORTUNE TELLS DUMB BEAUTY SPELLS 

Never lover lived through pictures
Looks over things an airy gryphon

Which are and were both high in mind

But betters a plague his riled head sounds

Pascal had his abyss that moved with him

How many times must I shake these clown’s bells

You used to say whence comes such subtle sadness

What will every other sin.

“Would weary word, shroud in book…”

A little known word’s misfortune.

They wanted only to show

Night-qualities.

Cradle into which this hard ship must descend-

He who ever hurt this theory

Hadn’t the madness I was under

Is Queen of us and ours none wonder

Nor has a need to know its elf

Sexual widow sent back yet once more to her impotence.

Surely the singer has talent,

But you like the ones at her sides.

What Watt Nite

Lite                                Do you usually

use?                                    Please phrase your

answer                        In the form of a

question                        Other tricky ones

are:                                    What two words in

English                         Rhyme but have no

vowels                       Are uttered by an

arctic animal                      When it howls or

growls?                        Brr Grr.

 

(In English in the original.) “Shall we bequeath a wealth of
Wreaths? Will the poor then stop dressing like artists?”

I so wish to remember Poe’s future,

                                    whose lone dull tower fell;

Unvisitable now by the living,

Poet hired out from his wild idleness…

 

 

Geoffrey Cruickshank-Hagenbuckle’s poems have been published or accepted at Fence, Purple, Lit, The Boston Review, Verse, Exquisite Corpse, Now Culture, Hotel Amerika, Can We Have Our Ball Back, Little Horse, Kilometer Zero, Coagula, Poetry Calendar, NY Nights, Sonaweb.org, Upstairs at Duroc, and Logopoeia.da.ru. He is a contributing editor at Purple. His handwritten notebooks are featured in the film Finding Forrester, directed by Gus Van Sant.