{"id":2932,"date":"2017-02-21T01:27:13","date_gmt":"2017-02-21T01:27:13","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/?page_id=2932"},"modified":"2017-02-21T01:28:03","modified_gmt":"2017-02-21T01:28:03","slug":"heath-brougher-winter-2017","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.fullofcrow.com\/poetry\/archives\/heath-brougher-winter-2017\/","title":{"rendered":"Heath Brougher, Winter 2017"},"content":{"rendered":"

The Milliondream Night<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Asleep at the edge of winter,<\/p>\n

frostbitten mornings to greet<\/p>\n

but<\/p>\n

still the mind hand in hand with the sublime<\/p>\n

pictures reeling through the night,<\/p>\n

waking to the poignant and piercing aftermath<\/p>\n

of these dreams, over and over,<\/p>\n

an endless night dipping into phantasmagoria;<\/p>\n

time unticking, and these feelings,<\/p>\n

these mindmovies replay themselves in my head,<\/p>\n

a movie theatre of the critical<\/p>\n

and absurd.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

Husk House<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The orchard winds cried out<\/p>\n

and I knew it was time to tend the trees.<\/p>\n

Utter and splashing, my approach was off,<\/p>\n

a bit smaller than a low gait,<\/p>\n

a bit larger than a fearful crawl.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The trees rang their sappy bells<\/p>\n

and their water-shaved roots showed their belly<\/p>\n

to the sky in a flash of transient womb.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Empires shuddered, cupboards closed, wood-wrought cabins crumbled,<\/p>\n

watching the winding graze of fruit envelop<\/p>\n

the shrouds of the ubiquity of the surrounding society.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Their locust skins fell only half-dead<\/p>\n

into my jar; the pupils dominated<\/p>\n

and the day was an eyeless country blue.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

A distant storm could be seen<\/p>\n

feeding on the houses and trees wired to the ground,<\/p>\n

ripping them up like a picked berry.<\/p>\n

A harvest of sorts\u2014the giving of shingles and plums and worms;<\/p>\n

their ovaries goldened and fell,<\/p>\n

keeping pace with the rain<\/p>\n

until an inevitable pool formed,<\/p>\n

as did memories of broken levees;<\/p>\n

yet it was not flood. “This is a long drink,<\/p>\n

a pure solution to dilate our seeds;<\/p>\n

we ream life from these swarms of necessary rain,”<\/p>\n

they sang. And so it was in the glory of day<\/p>\n

when I saw them smile, then realizing<\/p>\n

that they truly cradled the particles<\/p>\n

needed to wash ashore the continuous onslaught.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Mouthful of Pills<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The house made out of rat teeth gets cavities from the sugary wind<\/p>\n

you suppose and then step into the supposition<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the translucent jellyfish are micro Universes<\/p>\n

brimming with supernovas<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

arms are amputated in the surgery wind<\/p>\n

no more little toes for the Aborigines<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

the screaming clouds knock out the sun<\/p>\n

the screaming clouds throw hail onto the Earth<\/p>\n

the screaming clouds lessen the elbow room.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Heath Brougher is the poetry editor of Five 2 One Magazine<\/em>. He has published two pamphlets with Green Panda Press and his first chapbook A Curmudgeon Is Born<\/i> is forthcoming from Yellow Chair Press. His work has appeared or is due to appear in Diverse Voices Quarterly, Chiron Review, Of\/with, Main Street Rag, Crack the Spine, *82 Review, Mobius<\/i><\/i>, BlazeVOX, Third Wednesday, Otoliths, eFiction India<\/i>, and elsewhere.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The Milliondream Night   Asleep at the edge of winter, frostbitten mornings to greet but still the mind hand in hand with the sublime pictures reeling through the night, waking to the poignant and piercing aftermath of these dreams, over and over, an endless night dipping into phantasmagoria; time unticking, and these feelings, these mindmovies […]<\/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-2932","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\nHeath Brougher, 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\/heath-brougher-winter-2017\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Heath Brougher, Winter 2017 - Full Of Crow: Poetry (Archives)\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"The Milliondream Night   Asleep at the edge of winter, frostbitten mornings to greet but still the mind hand in hand with the sublime pictures reeling through the night, waking to the poignant and piercing aftermath of these dreams, over and over, an endless night dipping into phantasmagoria; 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