Charles Kell

Bandit Hand
Grab the grackle’s wet
wing festering in the lemon

twilight. I’ll dip this lit
finger in the flood & finally

sign the court document. In our
shrinking backyard stands

the falling swing-set
where we held A.A. meetings.

I stole the word, our record.
Slid the secret note saying what

I heard in the rusted weft
of the oval tube. We stood

in a circle—a wheel inside
of the air, like the wheel that took

the prophet Ezekiel—discussing
night crimes. Condemned sliver,

gnarled knuckle. Let go finally of
everything you clutched & tried

to drag to the bottom of the sea.
Looking low with slit eye sockets

I see little white Christmas lights
strung around your head shine

like phosphorous in the night

Copyright © Charles Kell 2017

Charles Kell is a PhD student at The University of Rhode Island and editor of The Ocean State Review. He teaches in Rhode Island and Connecticut.


About sunnydunny

Poet, publisher, gardener
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s