Three Poems
M Sarki
WHEN A PORTION REMAINS
Finally, the
Adjunct mare.
Her gait leads
The lantern.
But here,
Beneath my
Shroud, is
Ancilla.
Familiar and
Attentive.
THE HEM, OR A LEG ON LINCOLN
Up north a
season dies on
trees. And the
branch is made
a switch for
advancing
abnormalities.
Life sentences
harshly unacquainted
with an inaugural
event. And so,
severely, the
burler comes.
And goes, again,
to his hardtail fetish.
NAMES FOR LANGUAGE
Sky and howl
and spade.
We hazard
these avenues.
A panache of
fractured longitudes.
Gone Lancelots
to clay.