2 new poems from Michael Igoe: Effigies, Places of Inanimate Glass


I’m not wrong                                                                                                                                   for reinventing                                                                                                                                                         even reenacting.                                                                                                                                              Although a few words                                                                                                                                          are somehow maimed                                                                                                                                                                                                 bleeding in procession.                                                                                                                                                                                   Though I feign reverence                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       I find that I seek revenge,                                                                                                                                                      for making use of a word.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     Sweeping gestures                                                                                                                                                                             that never permit                                                                                                                                                                                                                    form in real time,                                                                                                                                  norms in addition.                                                                                                                                                                       The words ghosted,                                                                                                                                                                solemn and curved

Places of Inanimate Glass

The window panes                                                                                                                                              always in shatters                                                                                                                                              from kinder tears.                                                                                                                                        In continued slips                                                                                                                                                                              one laid in wait                                                                                                                                    to witness echoes.                                                                                                                                Sovereign lotteries                                                                                                                                  absolves the player                                                                                                                                                                    of  the parallel self                                                                                                                                     Any number can win,                                                                                                                                              if lonely and stripped

Bio: Michael Igoe, neurodiverse city boy, Chicago now Boston, recovery staff at Boston University Center For Psych Rehab. Many works appear in journals online and print. Recent: Spare Change News(Cambridge MA), thebluenib.com, minerallit.com. Avalanches In Poetry Anthology@amazon.com. National Library Of Poetry Editor's Choice For 1997. Twitter: MichaelIgoe5. poetryinmotion416254859.wordpress.com. Urban Realism, Surrealism. I like the Night.

New poems from Michael Igoe

Re-published poems by Michael Igoe 

A Fevers of the Mind Quick-9 Interview with Michael Igoe

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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