Bruce Covey


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Unfulfilled Crossword

So bend it happy & reading & sam full of fruit,
The quarter on your belly aches to spend, to
Draw, to divide & weep. So you clean out
The closet & spend your savings on discards—
Bowls of shoes & rackets & outcomes & steer,
The left breaks ranks & shatters conversation
Like a mirror, the last limps clear to the end
Of the vast hall, where a golden doorknob
Jests. Puzzles? Weaving this lace through
The clear square & skip the filled, clear &
Skip, clear & skip, until the heart
You’ve rendered splats its red across
The just functioning beach, one that substitutes
As a metaphor for the many, grainy shadow
& all. The one that—in all of its glorified swirls—
Approximates a stagecoach, tinkling piano
Invisible in the foreground, & cash lain
To account for it, the one less empty,
The cardboard city full of weeds. Tumbling
Up through the granite clearing, ribs cascade
To inform that someone’s underneath, breathe,
Imagine the cumulonimbus storms might
Break this territory in half like stale bread
& put some marshmallow fluff on it


Not to Where

Tapered from the waist, acrylic to shoe, thinking
A house isn’t enough a house isn’t big enough, taking
Rain & transforming it to sleet, pieces ricocheting
Off the shoulders, white reflecting little images a
Shattered mirror under chain mail, 12 friends deciding
To email all at once, imagining a glistening eye,
One that graphs crosswalk’s strategy, blue lights even
Bisecting a shadow from the budget up, triangles
& rectangles—50s Formica—but asking out on the screen in,
A couple of busters tying sheet to lemon lime, refracting
Nine love & three remainder, a matter of efficiency level,
How carefully inscribed the blackboard’s chalk
Myriad advice I’d never believe, or work day shortened
Into a couple’s dangling toes, gesturing box’s closure

past simple home