Diamonds in the Sand By Brenton Booth

This poems for Shakespeare.

This poems for Christopher

Marlowe. This poems for that

beautiful son-of-a-bitch: Tom

Joad, and the even more beautiful:

John Steinbeck. This poems for

the sky. This poems for the trees.

This poems for everyone that

ever walked against the mindless,

cowardly mob. This poems

for Henry Miller. This poems for

Charles Bukowski. This poems 

for Neil Young: whose album,

After the Gold Rush, saved me

from the miserable death of

my father. This poems for light.

This poems for dark. This poems

for talk. This poems for silence.

This poems for everything. This

poems for nothing at all. Listening

to loud music at 4:11 p.m. in my

writing room on a scorching

summer afternoon. Forty-six in

a few weeks. Bright as ever. 

Brenton Booth lives in Sydney, Australia. Poetry of his has appeared in Gargoyle, New York Quarterly, North Dakota Quarterly, Chiron Review, Main Street Rag, Naugatuck River Review, Heavy Feather Review, and Nerve Cowboy. He has two full length collections available from Epic Rites Press.