At the Hyphenator’s
by Daniel Bosch
Fist hams, like bats, from rafters.
Mouth meal ruminant in burlap sacks.
Oxidized tongue silver. Eye beads’ caviar.
Toe hammers crowding figure sticks.
Leg bows like enormous upper lips
Frown in tall stacks against wainscoting.
Eye stars wink from cloudy amphorae
At stuffed toe pigeons, mounted, “as in life.”
Buckets of liver lilies wilt. Jaw slack
Droops from bent nails. Recalled knee knobs
Brood in paper nests. From a .66
Eye gimlet screwed into a corkboard
Hangs a laminated “Index of Ethnicities.”
A muscular neck crew loiters in the foyer.
About the Author:
Daniel Bosch is a Boston-based poet and the winner of the Boston Review’s first annual poetry contest. Daniel is also a poetry critic for The Arts Fuse.