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Francis Santaquilani

Come Death

Clear sky and sweet breeze
Children's laughter and magnolia blossoms
Come, death, come quickly.

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Blood red moon, angry beat
Soul blossoms in red mist nevertheless
Body drains into blinding light.

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Hopeku

an angry golden sunrise burns
open her swollen black and purple eye, perhaps
only love and no pain today?

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o9

lie, lie, lie, lie, lie
we won, won, won, won
you lost, lost, lost, lost
i, i, i, i, i, i, i, i, i, i, i, i
freedoms die, die, die, die, die

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Triumphus

A man, made

In the image

Of God,


Became a

Beast, in the

Form of a man.


The beast

Sired a son,

Not a beast.

[...] Read more

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Caw

The January wind

Freezes a crow

In mid-flight

And mid-caw

And suspends it

In the icy blue sky.

It's black eyes bulge.

Its caw,

Stuck on high,

Dogs me deep

[...] Read more

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Broken Rhythm

A fat crow drops onto
The very tip of the top
Branch of a barren tree.

It sways with the branch
As if riding the hand
Of a metronome.

We're swept up in
The rhythm, the crow
The tree and me.

Then a hard gust
From the east
Or west and
The tree becomes a bull,
The crow a bullrider and
I'm on the edge of my seat
Waiting for something bad
To happen.

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Flinch

A herron,
Staring straight
Into the cold wind,
Stands steady
On a branch
No thicker than
It's skinny legs,
And looks down at
Another herron
Standing in the river,
Also staring straight
into the cold wind,
Its skinny legs battered
By cold, choppy
Waves launched in
A tugboat's wake.

My thick calves
And thighs shiver
Under my heavy pants.

[...] Read more

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Not A Poem

It's flush left,

The first letter

In each line is

Capitalized, and

I use a simile, but

It's more police report

Than poem.


At just past 7 a.m.,

On a Saturday,

My father slapped my face.

[...] Read more

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