Marty Hebrank




Blind Overture


Increasingly voluptuous

range blindly
onto your property.

For you, being sightly.
Headlights sampling green

circus music seemed right
for those limited circles.

A cart, an engine
dependent on the contoured landscape

mostly lists.

Pull one stake from the shadows
the groundskeeper would have to slog through

those external circumstances,
plucking a minor tune out
near the bauble lights.

Sand-trap. Water-trap. Shadow-trap.

When I put my flesh to your lips
the first time.

Shush the air. Smite it. Push it down flat.

It’s a development then.

Bends in
tenderly to teach.






250 words
made him plural again,

No more
be brought to

themes that would be


I cried five times during the

the birds rubbed all along their bodies.