In your Breast
I scream in your ear at the speed of light
but not a shiver in the adversity of darkness.
I push on your shoulder at the height of daylight
like a statue of ancient marble you stand.
I cry upon your breast as the babe you once lost
to feel but the frozen ice of your stony veins.
I run upon the great hill at the foot of Everest
to find but a bottomless desert in a valley of death.
I ask whether you can read the signs of a past tongue
to your shudder as only within a cage do you exist.
I watch the corpse of blue and steel in motion
begging for it to ponder the appeal I attempt to speak.
I too freeze as molten lava from a dying core
and it seems you laugh in the night of your alcove.
Parts for Sale
It is late
He might drift off into the dark void
or ponder an uncertain destiny.
It is time
for yet another tear to wet a lost hour
and fancy the good he can still do.
Parts for sale
A fresh soul glows on the glassy shelves
every moment a gift to the needy.
Light has gone
The limbs heavy as stone frozen to steel,
a statue now sits at the thinker’s task.
Everything must go
He will not arise again from this dream
seeking only relief to end his infernal storm.
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, the San Pedro River Review as well as other publications.