{"id":2864,"date":"2017-02-23T16:22:28","date_gmt":"2017-02-23T16:22:28","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/?page_id=2864"},"modified":"2017-02-23T16:22:28","modified_gmt":"2017-02-23T16:22:28","slug":"david-spicer-winter-2017","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/david-spicer-winter-2017\/","title":{"rendered":"David Spicer, Winter 2017"},"content":{"rendered":"

Bibliophobia In The Morning\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

This library gives me the fantods that creep
\nso suddenly I want to shout about conspiracies
\nlocksmiths couldn\u2019t fathom. It smells, too–
\nof sassafras, cod, and butternut. I can\u2019t
\nsmoke, sneeze, or sniff, and sometimes I cry
\nand choke like a strangler\u2019s victim. I guess
\nI could bend a little to cheer when the bus
\ngathers us up like a promenading
\nwhirlpool of traitors released from prison.
\nBesides, I\u2019ve wanted to investigate
\nthe geography and skullduggery of my
\ngirlhood\u2019s cliffs. Or penetrate the circus
\nof scurvy in ancient Greece, not to mention
\nthe affairs of a dandy rake named Ned in Pierre,
\nSouth Dakota, who was knifed in the Bijou
\nafter he feasted on Baby Ruths and snored
\ntoo much at the premiere of Double Indemnity.
\nYes, I suppose I could devour every cookbook,
\ntongue a kiss from Ned\u2019s great nephew in a remote
\nnook, and love him so hard I\u2019d rue the morning
\nI boarded the bus and climbed up the stairs
\nof this mausoleum of self-punishment.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 
\nDavid Spicer has had poems in Mad Swirl, Reed Magazine, Slim Volume, The Laughing Dog, In Between Hangovers, The American Poetry Review, Easy Street, Ploughshares, Bad Acid Laboratories, Inc., Dead Snakes, and in A Galaxy of Starfish: An Anthology of Modern Surrealism<\/em> (Salo Press, 2016). He has been nominated for a Pushcart, is the author of one full-length collection of poems and four chapbooks, and is the former editor of Raccoon, Outlaw, and Ion Books. He lives in Memphis, Tennessee.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Bibliophobia In The Morning\u00a0   This library gives me the fantods that creep so suddenly I want to shout about conspiracies locksmiths couldn\u2019t fathom. It smells, too– of sassafras, cod, and butternut. I can\u2019t smoke, sneeze, or sniff, and sometimes I cry and choke like a strangler\u2019s victim. I guess I could bend a little […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":934,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-2864","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\nDavid Spicer, Winter 2017 - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/david-spicer-winter-2017\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"David Spicer, Winter 2017 - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"Bibliophobia In The Morning\u00a0   This library gives me the fantods that creep so suddenly I want to shout about conspiracies locksmiths couldn\u2019t fathom. It smells, too– of sassafras, cod, and butternut. I can\u2019t smoke, sneeze, or sniff, and sometimes I cry and choke like a strangler\u2019s victim. 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It smells, too– of sassafras, cod, and butternut. I can\u2019t smoke, sneeze, or sniff, and sometimes I cry and choke like a strangler\u2019s victim. 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