6.14.23

Have forgotten

streetnames in my private registers

because I’ve secreted a man into my breathing

axis & its hitched I’m hitching on

a glint of silver studs warm in a winter morning

red tangle of beard stable seize of hands

they force the flow of coming days

what is possible

without torque?

To wrench back

belonging to

surrounding fields

difference between held

& enthralled over

bearing & born

over & over the sounds

of loose change

changing hands

2.41mi | 23:43


Phil Spotswood is a poet from Alabama, and a PhD Creative Writing candidate at Illinois State University. His most recent work can be found in Berkeley Poetry Review, Always Crashing, and Dreginald. He is a poetry reader for Spoon River Poetry Review, and Senior Editorial Assistant for Obsidian.