20160930

Jeff Harrison



The hart for Actaeon

The moon will settle into graves and emerge from cupboards — having plashed the fount, what is past her? It is the hart for Actaeon, nowhere else. Do, hounds, your custom with the hart, then go into towers, and among yourselves raise battles.


Your Actaeon

From this morass hale me — we are your hounds, Actaeon; you are not forgotten. Nor are you forgotten by your Actaeon. I could be a hart throughout, brain to fell, for all the thought I give the moon in her fount.


Actaeon enough

Let, then, my hounds be violets — this hart Actaeon enough, violets are hounds enough — and let them murmur to one another in mild alarm. No alarm sounded for me at the fountain's side, and to whom do I murmur? Where is my one another? I will content myself with those violets — those violets, too, are Actaeon enough.




Jeff Harrison has poems in all the issues of Otoliths except the second issue. He has publications from Writers Forum, Persistencia Press, and Furniture Press. He has e-books from BlazeVOX and Argotist Ebooks. His poetry has appeared in An Introduction to the Prose Poem (Firewheel Editions), The Hay(na)ku Anthology Vol. II (Meritage Press), The Chained Hay(na)ku Project (Meritage Press), Sentence: a Journal of Prose Poetics, Moria, Calibanonline, unarmed, Big Bridge, Word For Word, Dispatches from the Poetry Wars, and elsewhere. His interview blog with Allen Bramhall called Antic View is still up for visiting. http://anticview.blogspot.com/
 
 
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