---

 

enjoy this Cara Losier Chanoine writing in the Scars / cc&d free 2016 PDF file chapbook: Bowetry (click on the front cover image or the title text to download the free PDF file)				You can also order this as a 2016 6" x 9" perfect-bound paperback ISBN# book! Click on the book cover to order Bowetry as a book at any time!

Order this writing in the book After the Blues the cc&d July-Dec. 2016 collection book		get the 318 page July-Dec. 2016 cc&d magazine issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

The Peacock in the Snow
The Next Day 2013

Cara Losier Chanoine

They can’t get enough
of that doomsday song,
dirty boys living on a lonely road,
satyrs and their child wives.
The purple-headed priest
fashions paper sculptures of them,
stiff with hate.
He believes that love
is theft.
The gormless, baying crowd—
they chant for death,
gossip til their lips are bleeding.
Soggy paper bodies
wash ashore in the dark.

Say hello to the lunatic men,
soaking up our primitive world.
Lev can’t smile
and Sophie can’t sing,
but they dress like the saints
and they die upon their knees.
Valentine sees it all,
all the world under his heel,
but they whip him
through the streets—brilliant and naked,
just the way the authors looked—
body left to rot
in a hollow tree.

My father ran the prison,
a landscape crammed with
wrath.
In my scrawny hand,
I’ve got a fear
of rear windows and swinging doors,
a dread of sighs—
fingers crossed just in case.

You’ve got a dangerous heart,
leaving slips of paper
in the park,
vile rewards
for the broke and shamed.
Girl, you move like water.
We made our trysts
and struggled with our guns.
Your voice is new
but your fear
is as old as the world.

When the girl and guitar
burn together, hot in rage,
it’s something like religion.
It flickers and floats,
spins on your hips,
but stars are never sleeping.
Somewhere in the half-light
will come a silent gun,
beaming like blackened sunshine.
I can see you as a corpse,
hands upon the assassin’s needle,
the ghost behind the tinted window stretch
on a silent train.

Just remember, duckies, everybody
gets got.
Today, today
the first of May,
just a mile to the future
where tomorrow is king.
There’s a graveyard by the station—
I wear your old red dress,
just walking the dead.
They say the trees
die standing,
but I hope they live
forever.

Copyright of written pieces remain with the author, who has allowed it to be shown through Scars Publications and Design.Web site © Scars Publications and Design. All rights reserved. No material may be reprinted without express permission from the author.

Problems with this page? Then deal with it...