Postmodern Poetry – Xanax Pop by Lewis LaCook

We leave the arms of osiris in fields, the love from rain and dirt; we cut the heart out to fill us, bury the head everywhere

Either Isis or Lindsay cries if the sun tilts over us spills bottomed-out dry creek bed sleeps with shale. I brought you a feather

Gold circle http://ow.ly/18LizP

Oh osiris we tore apart a christ too. We needed the glimmer of meat. I’m smoking beneath his stars, with full belly, rivulet chin

Sometimes i talk to the empty creek. Isis or Lindsay topping the rusted tractor. Lose my way my mind, spying paths through brush

Drunk Osiris, i follow the heft of where your hills roll, training the vine to quiet hulls of logic. Lindsay, stung allergic

Abandoned campsite etched into thresh forest floor. Oh Isis. My pine-cone wand, my veins of sloughed limbs. Branches rot to burst

That Little Drop of Poison http://ow.ly/18JHjd

Cluster headaches http://ow.ly/18FVjv

After osiris reasons the ranch away far depths sound coltrane storms tropically depressed country greenery for cool dead wood pain