Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Two poems by A.g. Synclair

Nick Slade Has Left The Building
In my other life
I was the seed of a dogwood tree
the root and origin of dirty words
I have chosen flesh as my personal poison
faced extinction like the penny
my fight or flight response
plundered into madness.
Put me in charge
every barman will be a good listener
the regulars will die softly
in the crooks of their lover’s arms.
I was a penny then
I was a tree
I want to know why
I want to know if love
really is a dog from hell
why that tall Montana farm boy is reading Neitzche
why I should be so fond of Oleander.


it's just war

you'd think by now
at fifty
all of the pieces would be arranged
in order.
the process that began long ago
a journey
interrupted by a few small acts
of madness
your shit, not together.
lost time
lost money
lost love
and the final realization

that there is
nothing else.

Author bio:

A.g. Synclair is the editor and publisher of The Montucky Review, a journal of poetry and prose. He also sits, somewhat quietly, on the editorial staff of The Bookends Review. His work has appeared in numerous publications around the globe, despite the fact that he holds an MFA in nothing at all. He lives and writes out of a suitcase until his life returns to normal.

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