POETRY: TOM PRIME
GREEN CAME INTO MY LIFE THROUGH A HOLE IN THE CEILING
I was gestating the mountainside, as my father sustained betwixtment.
the curvature of the earth was cone-like, before
we ruled out old age—the lips hung like gravity failing.
in the sun had a hedgegarden, if I groomed a mine-swallower,
I, the tongues of hummingbirds animated,
had a burglar alarm; only
dogs spoke in a variety of dialects,
their mouths corned.
out of my shoulder, a man unable to reach low-hanging fruit, a palmful of water.
if brains lip the thoughts
caught in the eyes of
muscles, there are heavenward bodies cloth-pinned.
had the mercy been brainless, our shrivelled
sun is a highway sliced through hills.
Tom Prime is a PhD student in English at Western University. He has an MFA in Creative Writing at the University of Victoria (Specializing in Poetry). He has a BA at Western University. He has been published in Carousel, Ditch, Fjords Review, The Northern Testicle, The Rusty Toque, and Vallum. His first chapbook, A Strange Hospital, was published on Proper Tales Press. His latest chapbook Gravitynipplemilkplanet Anthroposcenesters, was published on above/ground press. His collaborative collection of poems written with Gary Barwin, A Cemetery for Holes, is available from Gordon Hill Press.
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