Stephen Kirbach – 2 Poems

Stephen Kirbach

2 Poems

A boring plume fakes placement sometime between neither hair
snore comb scrolling and encumbers thus lather.  If this isn’t
nickel time got secret well slurry cause bob had a habit.  One
mightn’t wonder forthwith here heaving a number of needs.  Hairy
come paddling in steel punt of the burning sea whirled where I’d bob
as well, but anchor hereinafter onto an instead and old
fashioned dammit.  One might wander awhile an our would be still
uncertain.  Hot rivets this timely river, a clockwork not brown and
otherwise bleating.  Somebody says it’s the son, while others
dispute this, unsure of nothing but smother.  Rain or shine, some
one string turf stung and plunders a pound of explosions.  A boring
panic takes place between neither hair snore this in the rain is isn’t
a purchase.  I ripen my bike to the tail get taken rip
lizards and prance furnished with Sundays.  An unlikely tail
wind uncorks a series of blister X falters, and then he inhibits the garden.

church window at

window at rattle under a highway

burning debris on a cold day outdoors
throws down his cigarette butt sizzles

that plastic webbing in woven end ending with rivets
into an aluminum frame

stuff accumulates and disperses

and the name used rudely is rather
usurped            others might say thus   the same

say the same there are say some said to be secular      aliens

aliens amongst us                      spook said electric
no more water waters enough and

a pensive odor of gasoline
fetid in weeds

and windless the bridge from which I sodden at midnight
bisect utter lunging      its alien

alien water no room remaining thus forces an exit and
that was the first oddly


numbered one windless alien
all furniture strewn and sunken in


that the river might rise up from its bed on a rampage
today the dull olive

guy gotten dye gotten blue
then swept away swift

I an alien stand between them and did so enough under
umbrella river shovel bridge and withstand
keeper keep certain take change

he’s the one who unwires the bomb

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