Subject: (no subject)
The last light leaves the lake in a
balloon of cloudlessness. Subject lines up with object like the
buildings marching up the avenue: less perfect from every angle. It's
funny: laugh. My father is a photographer; he takes pictures of
landscapes & people that mean something. The sand scrapes its way
down the lakeshore. Using wolves in the titles of things is very
popular these days. Maybe I should title my book Subject Wolves instead. I'm serious: stop laughing. Or Wolf Lines.
Ekleksographia #1
January 2009
Poems
Samuel Day Wharton
Samuel Day Wharton has poems appearing or forthcoming in Blackbox, The Concher, Death Metal Poetry, NOO Journal, No Tell Motel, Open Letters Monthly, Otoliths, Redivider, & Salt Flats Annual. He is the author of a chapbook — Welcome Home (NeOPepper Press, 2007) — & editor of the poetry journal Sawbuck.