(Note: this is not a prose poem titled “Hiatus,” but a note!). I want to thank all of you who’ve subscribed to Poem-a-Day for inspiring me to write new…
Austin Smith
I always loved the place. I would have even had I not known what the village was called. I loved how patiently the girl who served us ice cream waited …
Austin Smith
Christ tried to come back Last winter Through the legs Of a Native American girl In Fort Kearney, Nebraska. But the Mary of our age, Despite taking eve…
Austin Smith
The dead are downstairs neighbors we think we might have passed once or twice in the hall. They gave us a mean look for what seemed like no reason. Rum…
Austin Smith
Most boomerangs are lost On the first throw But those that do Come back Come back As if They intend to Slit our throats Like things We wish We hadn’t w…
Austin Smith
When the beam of light Falls apart Everything on the screen Falls apart too The actor and actress Along with the trees They were shone Kissing under In…
Austin Smith
The water towers That stand at the edge Of every town, that is where The grief-water is stored. Sixty-four ounces A day is recommended. The water flows…
Austin Smith
In homeroom she would sit and trace Her blue veins in pink ink While he famous for the fact that He was already smoking Would watch her And though the …
Austin Smith
They say the light shines in the darkness And the darkness doesn’t understand Like the new boy no one talks to But who one day raises his hand And says…
Austin Smith
Left the city before the first sirens. Crossed the bridge, crossed the valley, Its blossoming orchards and dormant crosses. Let the car carry me agains…
Austin Smith
He had a dream It had fallen To him To open The fields Of the flannel shirt His father was sleeping In the night He died In the old way Behind horses B…
Austin Smith
Towards the end of summer I start to see them, standing at the far end of the practice fields that stretch behind the small country high schools. They …
Austin Smith