Monday, August 1, 2022

Notes, David Hay


A stray hair of a cloud caresses the lip of the moon,

My eyes once pebbles carried by the inflexible current

Of a raging river,

Erode into their fleshy moulds and gloop to goo.

The flow of screams from the one mother's throat

That forces stars to slide out of the sky,

As the veins of constellations

Cascade down to the dirt,

To form flesh that tickles the roots born

Like me,

To worship the sun's absence.

David Hay was inspired to write after discovering the Romantics, particularly Keats and Shelley, as well as the works of Woolf and Kerouac. His work has been accepted for publication in Dreich, Abridged, Acumen, The Honest Ulsterman, The Dawntreader,The Babel Tower Notice Board, Ink, Sweat and Tears, The Lake, Selcouth Station, GreenInk Poetry, Dodging the Rain, Seventh Quarry and Expat-Press, among others. His debut publication is the Brexit-inspired prose-poem Doctor Lazarus published by Alien Buddha Press 2021. 

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