The meat in the horse-brush;
the steaming flank.
Children drop the ends of words
& words speak anyway of children.
To be a handful of fish un-swimming,
in fatness; a bed of ice.
Lift the thick spoon of honey:
names, the air a strange element.
I love to watch the river-clad girls.
I keep my own blood.
I tried to make my love letters black
as dry salvia. No match.
The field mouse is philosophic:
awkward boys piss euphemistic into holes.
Do not swim here.
The power plant churn, the green light.
Your thighs so pale my beard
stakes foolish claims.
You can’t really throw a knife.
Go on, try.
published in Ottawa by above/ground press
a/g subscribers receive a complimentary copy
Jamie Bradley’s poetry and reviews have appeared in journals including Descant, CV2, Rattle, Arc Poetry Magazine and bywords.ca, and in the chapbooks, Compositions (Angel House Press) and Dalhousie Blues (Ex-Hubris Press), as well as an above/ground press broadside. He is a contract professor in English at the University of Ottawa.
To order, send cheques (add $1 for postage; outside Canada, add $2) to: rob mclennan, 2423 Alta Vista Drive, Ottawa ON K1H 7M9 or paypal at www.robmclennan.blogspot.com