Neil Brosnan

Born on Long Island, N.Y. went to a couple of different colleges; hitch-hiked around Europe got thrown out of Ireland; worked in a mental...

Your flesh was a glass chorus of cruel sirens who with every touch chafed the ribbons of my fingers raw. In your blue eyes I notched with a yellow...

thrumming chit-chit sprinklers hum mistaken for operatic crickets trilling lazy resort air as wrinkled splayed foot reptiles bow iguana heads like regal buddhists slowly roaming nirvana crossing thached pagodas unconscious tourists...

baby left sometimes she leaves stays away… I wait I can’t stand waiting – cannot make her come back soon enough   slowly time erases sorrow slakes sleepers wake again together one on one laugh away the hours lost the shadow’s left slowly fading on...

darkness rides itself wrapped in an empty cloak on the back of a frothing stallion mouthing phantom malice without a rider to give it voice soulless searching for someone new to...

sleepless night toss and turn remembering when relived again amended to no avail   up-ended brought forth into that darkness promising clarity   absolute darkness entreats   silence traps…   your beating heart resurrects over and over refuses end. *** BITTER POEMS: echo BY NEIL...

sweltering August afternoon Rene Lazare bare foot, bare chested in a leather smock tied over ragged jeans feverishly manipulates pigments bent over an old barn’s floor mixing tube squeezed oils pressing and...

oh memory childhood illusion behind what synapse the aroma of smoldering autumn fire suburban side roads softly gauzed in smoky light children’s saturday voices rising from yards family raked weekend chored to the status...

bum feet street-beat wise sunk in banged up shoes previously dumpster swiped lean hobo soled holed haloed covered in foot funk sock stink grime   no blue suede shoes snappy tassel loafers…   gamy high-top sneakers here retro Corso’s weary worn down creased re-knotted raced in hiked trod...

see how softly he whimpers now as the needle that fills him with kisses, weeps a concoction of sincerity cut with compromise tarnished silver teaspoon of grief erasing every meaning   whispering in...

piss stains on the wizard sheet pulled from last night’s bed southern clown klansman gown fearful eyes beneath a cut­out pillowcase boo inside a bigot’s head black Bible talk behind...

that evening you left me on the corner moths drank every street light a swarm of locust devoured the moon. *** NEIL BROSNAN: darkness

raptured in bees that do not sting flying within their kinetic drone circumference of apian light I am nectar in each leg pouch adorned with bees that croon green ascension floating...

fly on a peeling sill every surface potential edge of the world   eyes filled with light food wooed pile of dog mush bit of cheddar asparagus spear all the same to it   frustrated...