The Three Gates of the Arch, as Riding the Shoulders of a Giant

the adjective goes after the noun
the maiden fair
the plain long
the dream strung tight against the boards
for making

all my lives

we’ll sing you from the bones into the street
skulls and pinions in your mire
swinging up your boots
to town
I told you every secret that I knew
to take out of the graveyard with you

dies drear the bookend
not five acts but two
a thousand years apart
the house collapsing
the singers choked
the blood
where there is blood

fertilizer for the storm
out of the air

take me
righteous kingdom
in your hair
for a stroll over the sky gallery
onion dome buns
studded with copper
I insect
watching the earth move under your feet

Robin Wyatt Dunn was born in Wyoming in 1979. You can read more of his work at Read other articles by Robin.