Three Poems by Joseph Spece
[House at the end of time]
House at the end of time
you have a bedside table
on the edge
& midnight tonight
when the 10
goes hurling by
the delicious crash
will dissolve the sleeping air
& a dreamer start to his infancy ,
rubbing one eye.
[beneath a lake of tapwater today I found a gourd just like]
beneath a lake of tapwater today I found a gourd just like
the fat blighted birds in my dreams, blighted darkgreen,
streams oozing down its back while a knotty beak leans
over the slit and writes is this the road upstairs ,child
[Of every little thing never left me]
Of every little thing never left me
a plant is what’s most.
Because it speaks like a scrap of paper.
Spider plant with that one undying
and ugly frond ,outlined in celery green ,
forever occupying the pot
where I buried yr high school photo.
A blonde face and blonde hand for holding
that haunts me like a bedclothes rag.
Really I didn’t want it.
About the Author:
Joseph Spece took degrees from Boston College and Columbia University. He’s founding editor at Fathom Books and author of the volumes BAD ZOO (Fathom, 2018) and Roads (Cherry Grove, 2013). Recent periodical publications include amberflora, DIAGRAM, Volt, and Best American Experimental Writing.