Sean Bolton

The Alien

Research has pierced all extremes of my sex
                                                                —David Bowie 

In-sonic  symphonic  
       auricle and prosthetic
   harmony and  bane 
derelicted gods   perversion
        plowed for trance

    Mark to deploy   gilt
 rebels on    grids of chain
          raped to rhapsody
    in turn    ruptured
    to respire   grit-beleaguered
insulate  insolent  in silence  laid

Idiot age  boring rage
    flexing at mirrors    decayed
this desert bleeds money 
         disaffected    auto-deflected
   lifetimes in analytics
           a-waste   endeavoring

     drink to apprehend
   to love is not to drown

With Name

   Burn down I from entropy, gut 
and ghost. Tribute   the intruder – 
   trash witness    what name without
     mind. Instead extend   beyond 
 fragment: a blade’s edge

cannot be cut. Time moves
   through name like  a thrust of
     breath   into blood. Insist
  to incise, fine defense for 
 shedding dust    life fucked

       for reason’s sake. Past
  all of pretty rhyme   a rose is not
name   nor this parade  of signs
   in incremental waste. One word
to purge image  in annihilation.

Sean Bolton received an MFA in Creative Writing, Poetry from Arizona State University. He currently teaches in the English Department at Santa Fe College. He has previously published poems in journals such as Mad Hatters’ Review, The Gambler, and Line+Stars. His chapbook, A Passion, was published by Gold Wake Press.
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