Michael Mc Aloran - Three Poems

#12

Ashen burning ash
Of silence

Winds without
Malice

The eyes drained

A sudden gust
Of excrement

At the pitch of elegant fields
Of bloody dew

Sound/ lapse of/ sound
Shrouded

Pulse of the sky
Pyre of these red raw bones



#5-

Ash
Bloody ash

Dread
Lapse unto
None

But spoken
Head or
Spiral rapture

Seethe
Spit of the sun’s
Emptiness

Dredge never to
Retrace



#6

Scar
Headless altar

At the foot of
Spasm

Walls of laughter
Idle shadows following

Head of candied
Night air

Skinned ashen
Pageantry

Of ghost limbs