Keith Higginbotham
  
  
Chinatown

Couch oligarchy in 
fireworks.
The rain has perhaps
exasperated.

Reel majestic 
something 
roast of spoke whip— 
the bull grieved
and remembered, 
and watched.

Mythologies ignored like 
our best moments 
of domestication;
still too many 
rides into
the hiss of trucks
and veins.

Rejoice clothes of wire left
in the vestibule
on television the nostalgia
goes kaboom.



Tom Jones

To marry is guilty love,
nephew. A duel from the waters.
Tommy tutors himself in Westerns
and dead pious conduct torn
into servants.

Marriage to an Irishman, a relative
brags, scares a rascal. Owns
a partridge in the feisty bedroom.
He arrives as a neighbor and
announces his beauty.



Gabriel

in the vase land

a bassinet
of trees 

for method art
spammed a gaucho

a suicide of words
raised a blind



The Hanged Father

the delicate pale
arrives in fall the end of the end of

resurfaced window of death like a wind
woods it

the hanged father is a he
mute so buries so

wearing cement near tresses 
like silence was old was that

old man

Keith Higginbotham's publications include Grace Notes (illustrator, with Meg Tuite and David Tomaloff) (Unknown Press), Calibration (Argotist eBooks), Theme From Next Date (Ten Pages Press), Prosaic Suburban Commercial (E∙ratio Editions), and Carrying the Air on a Stick (The Runaway Spoon Press). He lives in South Carolina and posts his (mostly collage) art at keithhigginbotham.tumblr.com.

 
 

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