found.poetry.ny | Riding the B-Lines

Riding the B-Lines

Azimuth messengers
come upon ruins and return
the buffalo poems.

The game of boxes
pierces into perfect spheres
those unholy holes.

Their Judas clocks
re-crossing equators leave
rouge-pulp trails.

The porous china
sits at the post-rapture diner
with my mother.

American fanatics
invite her to eat with them,
with all of the above.

The kangaroo girls
feel the weight of numbers
when they’re found.

Scholars called her
written works ‘unremarkable’
but she carried on.

Afraid to publish
all quiet and noonday rest,
she died the day after.

Uncredited romance
of dry rituals and gargoyles,
poems made of skin.

Changes in free verse:
nineteen million elephants
and one waterfall.

Personal and pastoral
published only in her Gazette
purposed to entertain.

Verbal artistry —
pearly patent leather stars
and other clear signs.

Driftwood collects
a slim volume of her words
attributed to memory.

. . . . .

Poet: Susan Powers Bourne
Source: Women.Poets.New.York
Process: Augmented cento

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