Verse by Kyle McCord

I really enjoy this poem. Now you can too–found at VerseDaily.org:

There Was One Tongue and It Was Forgotten

I live in a house. My closet:
a maze of jars, shoes, a guitar.

Two doors down a sign warns,
No trespassing.

The weeks pass;
I go trespassing.

Always I feel
along the ceiling for cracks.

Always a child, I wake,
root beneath the pillow to find a sliver of myself

gone,
coins in its stead.

In the morning, many languages
—unlearnable method of radiance.

The quiet exchange of objects. Basket to tub.
Garden to dandelion.

Figures playing along the window. Now drapes
clothing the gust. Now me tapping along the sill

in an unfamiliar parlance. It reminds me
of something shattered into ornateness.

It reminds me of something swept up
and tumbled out on a beach.

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Click this button link to read another poem by McCord–from his 2013 collection.

-A poem from Galley of the Beloved in Tormentthe first of his three collections.

Sympathy from the Devil (Gold Wake Press 2013)

Sympathy from the Devil (Gold Wake Press 2013)

book-cover-final

Informal Invitations to a Traveler (Gold Wake Press 2011)

 

Galley of the Beloved in Torment (Dream Horse Press 2008)

Galley of the Beloved in Torment (Dream Horse Press 2008)

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