Jeff Harrison

"Eccho, look..."

Eccho, look, the lovéd Muses again

Only plaints have thou,
thine vilest grief hastes to meet thine rival tongue

Orfeo's fell, and Philomel's -
could'st Eccho's, again unacquainted with the lovéd Muses?

Eccho, look, the lovéd Muses again


This night, midst of this grove brightens the flower that should win you, Arcadia. A lamp (flower of night) this rose feigns, she grows yet from her joyous name: rose, Arcadia. Forth spring, rose, your Arcadia is in soil. Arcadia was one rose, she was awhile in the Fate the Heavens can lavish after ages of Iron.

Mimicry In Ruins

Beauty is body as places, and, if I'm to believe Nature, makes Reason nakedness, there Reason's the very ruin of Mimicry, termed Eagle in the Thicket. Prince, pass, Mimicry says, yours is a suitable den, and my treasons have shrouded me past sight of Hope. Mimicry says, I would be at the side of Venus, and languish in her wake. That Mimicry termed Eagle languishes in the Thicket seems wasteful of the fox.

Jeff Harrison has poems in all the issues of Otoliths except the second issue. He has publications from MAG Press, Writers Forum, Persistencia Press, and Furniture Press. He has two e-books at xPress(ed), and one at Blazevox. His poetry has appeared in Sentence: a Journal of Prose Poetics, Moria, Nerve Lantern, Xerography, MiPOesias, NOON: journal of the short poem, Big Bridge and elsewhere. He has an interview blog with Allen Bramhall called Antic View (note blog installment 131).

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