BEHIND THE HOUSE OF LORE
http://www.maverickmagazine.com/articles/351/1/BEHIND-THE-HOUSE-OF-LORE/Page1.html
Jason Huskey
Jason Huskey earned his B.A. in English from Longwood University. He is currently writing an interconnected collection of short stories and another such collection of poems. His work has appeared in The Dos Passos Review, Love’s Chance Magazine, and The Nocturnal Lyric. By Jason Huskey
Published on 11/25/2005
A wet cross in soft soil
A crying child in autumn leaves
Rabbits, three, on a fallen tree,
behind the house of lore.
Dew-glistening, clover patch behind
wilting flowers overcome by weeds
A crying child in autumn leaves
Rabbits, three, on a fallen tree,
behind the house of lore.
Dew-glistening, clover patch behind
wilting flowers overcome by weeds
A wet cross in soft soil
A crying child in autumn leaves
Rabbits, three, on a fallen tree,
behind the house of lore.
Dew-glistening, clover patch behind
wilting flowers overcome by weeds
The rabbits three begin to flee
behind the house of lore.
A dog, a dirty, mange & flea & must,
running wild with wagging tongue,
drooling pink with blood, slathered
crust of pelt from a fight the night before
behind the house of lore.
A purple dragon, full bloom now,
wet with aphid slime, sucking
at the grey clouds an hour away from
pouring, leaning toward the eastern
bleakness and circling buzzards black
The rabbits three pass by free
behind the house of lore.
A wet skull in soft soil
White fingers wrapped in weeds
Worms, a home between her bones
Rabbits, three, come by to see
The rabbits three come by to see
A wet cross in black soil
wrapped round and wound by weeds,
a ways away from the fallen tree,
the rabbits three begin to flee,
from behind the house of lore.
Copyright © Jason Huskey, 2005. All Rights Reserved.
A crying child in autumn leaves
Rabbits, three, on a fallen tree,
behind the house of lore.
Dew-glistening, clover patch behind
wilting flowers overcome by weeds
The rabbits three begin to flee
behind the house of lore.
A dog, a dirty, mange & flea & must,
running wild with wagging tongue,
drooling pink with blood, slathered
crust of pelt from a fight the night before
behind the house of lore.
A purple dragon, full bloom now,
wet with aphid slime, sucking
at the grey clouds an hour away from
pouring, leaning toward the eastern
bleakness and circling buzzards black
The rabbits three pass by free
behind the house of lore.
A wet skull in soft soil
White fingers wrapped in weeds
Worms, a home between her bones
Rabbits, three, come by to see
The rabbits three come by to see
A wet cross in black soil
wrapped round and wound by weeds,
a ways away from the fallen tree,
the rabbits three begin to flee,
from behind the house of lore.
Copyright © Jason Huskey, 2005. All Rights Reserved.