Thursday, December 6, 2018

Ghosts by Heath Brougher

Didn't you ever tell that plump child
that Thesauruses are only online mythical
creatures crest creates a creationism all
its own where the sun is an egg yolk
and the moon is a rice paddy
dead right damn right front of frogs shaking shah
to salad kidney gumbo glued to the Void
and reimburse the emptiness with 
a glimmer to stretch a million streets long
as if eternity is Truth aside from
the findings that most things of modernity
eventually die eve end hurting hurtles
of hues guess just oatmeal patchwork
from front here we wear wept welts
as asked constituents costume masks
and I can finally tell you
that you look dumb
dressed as a ghost.

About Heath Brougher:

Heath Brougher is the poetry editor for Into the Void Magazine, winner of the 2017 and 2018 Saboteur Award for Best Magazine. He is a multiple Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net Nominee. His work has been translated into several other languages and his two newest books are To Burn in Torturous Algorithms (Weasel Press 2018) and The Ethnosphere's Duality (Cyberwit.Net 2018) as well as 3 forthcoming collections. His work has appeared in Ghost City Review, Ramingo's Porch, Chiron Review, MiPOesias, Main Street Rag, Blue Fifth Review, indicia, Boston Poetry Magazine, Brave New Word, Burningword Literary Journal, Pangolin Review, Clockwise Cat, BlazeVOX, and elsewhere.

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