Tuesday, October 25, 2016

(part of )Gravem Co.

Jesse S. Mitchell

But we didn't denigrate the sky, even for abundances of clouds.
I've lived forever, two hundred thousand years, between these far mountains. In this valleyland, swampland, choked mud high, levelland, draining away but as all the waters collect
And every year, two years, here and there, from down the slopes, they come collapsing, clasping hands and singing, the songs political, and the sweet and pleasing odors rise to the skies and the angels in heaven hear and know to be near and spread over us their wings and to be safe from fear.
Our fear.
Like embers, untended.
And the smoke drifts.
And not necessarily narcissistic, but we peer into the pools, the surface waters, and watch it all happening.
Down to our bones.
Down through our skins.
We feel the ripples, ourselves nothing but the but the troubled waters.

Sunday, October 23, 2016


Jesse S. Mitchell

The washing machine rumbles and sighs
Seasick sky ran aground against the earth and all the surrounding horizon
Crumbled and dry
Elle vous suit partout

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

and then abdicate

Jesse S. Mitchell

We should illuminate different things in different ways.

The shadows here are dim
And they are tiresome

In form, a democracy...

And I am Vandal and I am a gnawer of bone.
What must be consumed
Will be consumed.
What must be ruined
Will be ruination.
The cold wind that kills
The summer sun that fades.
The brutal heat that steals the water gone.
And nothing is ever left
But parched
And the tooth-driven