Here is the house erupting from my chest.
I’ve crossed an ocean
and taken it with me. Here is the eye
blinking like a broken porch light.
Hear the music
as it passes through empty rooms? A woman’s voice
now gone. Here is the pictureless frame
hung from my lungs. And here are my hands, still,
just my hands. And here is the shape of her name
shattered beneath my tongue, the orchid
covered in dust. Here are my knees
huddled into dirt, and anger scratching
at the cellar door
when all that’s left
is the leaving.
Here are my teeth crumbled to ash
from a fire that once devoured my stomach —
And here is the colossal moonlight upon this shore,
marrow, memory, a broken window
- Brandon Fury
Brandon Fury graduated with a bachelor’s degree in poetry from the University of Pittsburgh and is currently enrolled in the master’s of fine arts program at Carlow University. His work has appeared in The After Happy Hour Review, Melted Wing, Fifth Floor, Eye to the Telescope and Runaway Hotel Vol. 2. He resides in Crafton.
