“Scuffle Town” by Rich Ives

the year of locusts the hour of the further dust a dark smudge of a man father dead before the child was born and this was father blocked and spiked above the neglected memory weeds a squared-off dog with shoulders like a mailbox there‚Äôs room for any message you want to send call this love a tablecloth and the old hunger sits politely while anticipation … Continue reading “Scuffle Town” by Rich Ives