Bleacher Wick, The

As in bright days to approach

when I outlive you all

it will be a execrate

but my blessing in some way too.

I frequent your graves

by the stream with annuals

sneaked from a grotto (sprays

of pansy, tortured ivy, quickgasp)

or mingle to the-breeze

what of your ashes I

could not use for seasoning

or mulch (to watch you war

as flowers as in life, unfurling

in the funeral pile of days your secret title).

Even your enfeebl I will roll

each over rills, or swaddling

your corpses in my danties weep

at the respite in similar bright change.

And of none of this boast,

gorging upon sow or tripping

along cliffs whistling

some lyncher's saw.

From epitaphs I carve upon

a mountain shine the flaws

attributed you by dint of lovers, the name

of each vast ne unrequited,

the addresses, the newest spellings

of your shrieks. when riven .

blasting songs from the uneven moments

of superiority you meet withed

which I have not at any time forgotten.

Tom Breidenbach received his MFA from the University of Massachusetts at Amherst. His piece of poetrys have appeared in College English, The Mississippi Review, The Denver Quarterly, and Lingo. He lives in fresh York City. photograph by Yannis Delatolas

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