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a journal of literature & art

The Literary Review

Issue 10                    Page 58

In the Middle Distance

Windows break themselves

out of grief and spite

Old men walk until their

hearts explode

borne on this tide of bones

This river of snapped and

shattered shovels

This summation, this

blunt blank stroke

Your complaints have been noted

and a catalogue made

of your weeping dust

your helpless desire

and your deeds done

in the dark

in the silence

in the middle distance

We endured, we persisted

We ate everything, every day

Our reward is this spasm

Our solace this tumefaction

Our joy is to

never be warm again

Sextant

Mark this spot

Carry it with you

so that

you will never be lost again

This eye sees nothing

This nose detects

the failed and sterile rose

This ear hears only what

you’ve spoken in your

broken sleep

© Charles Buckland: StoneWall

Monumental Silence

here in the coldest water

where the soil parts ways

and the drowned mammal

eyes stare ceaselessly

we are winnowed

we are justified

perfected in

strangled lime

i didn’t want to be

your epitaph

i resisted memory

and ran from red tablets

while a howl broke from the deep

and spilled the battered sky and

called through watchful desert holes

there is only so much time

Business

Give me what I want

We can iron all this out

Please don’t make me

walk across that gray bridge

I want to come to an agreement

I would like to see you naked

My first preference would in fact be

an ambulance ride

You can play the bugle

You see, it was a hard year

I had to sell everything

And at such cheap prices

I’m not sure I can forgive myself

and I certainly won’t forgive you

Let’s come to terms

Let’s talk confidentially, you and I

Let’s make it squeal

How much worse can it possibly get?

I have it on good authority that

you aren’t all you’re cracked up to be

I’d like to see your accountant

I’d like to see the slightest jiggle

Come on, what will it cost you?

And for just this smallest moment

one you’d certainly never miss

You might give me my revenge

my fondest wish

Who wants to live forever?

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