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Poetry

Don Narkevic – 2 poems

Thorny Fence 

circa 1916 

installation piece 

wood, wire, soldier 

            

Inexorably pinned down, 

the body touches 

neither earth nor sky, 

floats like a Chagall 

belly down 

on wire on wood X-X. 

Unable to charge, booted feet 

dangle as wind whispers 

through the thorny fence. 

            

The eyes seek 

a hand to harvest 

photographs and letters 

from mum and daddy, 

a hand to lower the remains 

into a grave 

before rats go for the eyes 

and burrow in. 

            

No one approaches 

for fear of machine gun fire, 

and each night star shells burst 

above the slowly bloating body. 

No one remembers 

his name, sleep coming to most 

on another day. 

            

Suicide Letter Composition 101 

            

Make a good impression 

by employing creative words 

like melancholy, agony, 

and desolation. 

            

Use metaphors like Garden  

of Gethsemane, a place 

where your pals failed 

you, all asleep at the wheel. 

            

But refrain from naming names. 

Nobody likes a crybaby; 

just refer to spilled milk, 

trite, but still a metaphor.  

            

Survivors prefer a handwritten  

note, the smell of decaying ink, 

the tactile indentations of words 

on the back like Braille 

            

never to be understood 

or explained. Always 

leave them wanting 

a little more. 

            

Don Narkevic: Buckhannon, WV. MFA National University. Recent work appears in Street CakeNeologism Poetry Journal, and Solum Literary Press.

By Heavenly Flower Publishing

Bindweed Magazine publishes two anthologies each year: Midsummer Madness and Winter Wonderland. Bindweed is run as a not for profit, labour of love endeavour by an author/poet couple: Leilanie Stewart and Joseph Robert. Bindweed can be found at https://bindweedmagazine.wordpress.com

2 replies on “Don Narkevic – 2 poems”

Sigh. It seems easier to email a celebrity than a poet; such is our anodyne culture. In any event, having read a different poem in a different journal, I’d like to tell the poet I found it as evocative as Larkin’s The Explosion, the poem that sent me back to poetry. And thank you.

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