Neil Brosnan

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...

    hunted down they found him in an open field riddled with scraps of poetry half thought out verse set in awkward measure broken mouth dammed with thwarted doves fingers crushed stained with...

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...

drenched in city dawn a tarnished dime stares heads up empty eyed stuck on a crimson clot late night bar fight spilled into the street fists then bullets screeching tires crumpled body in...

the heels of his poor man shoes were each worn down on the outside edge and the laces were white string knotted to where the black had broken… he...

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...

line in the distance where two blues meet define their separate borders sky and sea open spline in the book of life sometimes clouds above white caps below the wind given life by...

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...

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...

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...

the manual said so simple now even a housewife can do it. Fantastic, I thought. Let her.  *** BY NEIL BROSNAN: liberation

Mao attaining... (to buddhahood) Mao you Chairman Buddha now fat cat china cool Tao, your zen red book Great leap forward bone to throw the masses off… seeking you in bullett...

ninety-nine names of God in a hat   choose what you need throw the rest back   take the God without image God without face distort him to service the cause you...