(buzzing velvet drone)


lived some in the trees
the brown liquor comes up short 
sound drove straight on through 

spiraled out of time
i move like four bent mailmen
the tires kiss what’s there

front door closes good
high-tension line transformers
buzzing velvet drone

pushed the bones aside
the sky paused and rolled in place
branches burn real bright


dug a deeper ditch
hot beef broth tastes like ozone
sealed the torched instant

noise as radiance
in the dark all hair on edge
saw old stars explode

what i heard was drums
rose above its vaulted dome
broken stumps less trees

evening transposes
doubled back around the hum
found my concrete wall


millstones are sharpened
carving fork elects the spine
feet warped by subtones

plugged my ears with ham
only fill dirt left to sift
what life means a monk

thickenings expand 
gathered up what moss there was
made myself a hat

something more than air
parables of inclusion
the numbers agree

Jeffrey Little | Impressionism Reconsidered as a Lascaux Cave Painting
Contents | Mudlark No. 77 (2024)