Mark Bibbins
POEMS
 

from “Blasted Fields of Clover Bring Harrowing and Regretful Sighs”


Emerald carpet on the balcony. A false diva’s hair frizzed on the plane and befreckled flight attendants pulled out their eyedrops over the Rockies. In front of the firehouse a burly officer ranted barking and advancing toward a family gathered on the restaurant stairs. He comported himself with rage. You cunt one of the boys piped up. They crumbled laughing but the lawman burst. Only the suitor who could retrieve the gnocchi from the pool in one motion would win the daughter’s hand. It wasn’t Ray a grade-A flibbertigibbet with numerous keys and enormous tonsils. His exit interview dragged on for hours. Security leaned into their tabloids and that night he came in a sailor’s hair short sailor hair.