Umbriate Press Poetry

Poetry Posts

  • Mother II

    The mind runs muddy to its bottom, thoughts linger along the muck of its banks. Look away so that I can forget you. Soon, when you will no longer know me, I, too, will inhabit emptiness. Read more

  • Mother I

    She slides out of bed into a puddle of urine thick with forgetfulness. There she stands surrounded by the yellow fragrance of another morning, a fragrance recalling birth and the cleansing of the body. Read more

  • I reached out

    I reached out

    I reached out to take your wrist and when I drew back my hand my fingers were like frightened birds fluttering in coal dust. Read more

  • A manner of dying

    We have a manner of dying over and over again in each other’s stillness. Life beckons us like a flute the deaf whose fingers turn to stone with each touch of the keys. Read more

  • Archimedes’ UBU

    Père UBU screwed –Père UBU. –No! –Butt Tubby! –Yes! –Make me a fat poem, please. –Right. I call this one “ME.” O is de rain drop-O-let Of all pOems the tear Of nOthing, tOO is sad withOut the rain as me –That is good. –Your welcome. Read more

  • Contra: Archimedes’ Shrew

    Archimedes’ Shrew Image: lips open and breath turns to seed, drops like an old hat from the slope of a tilting head. Reason: It has not rained for all time, cracked things weep for themselves, skin dries in the hollow of an empty hand. Consequence: Ever. Moral: Closed, origins may sleep but never speak while Read more