Michael Earl Craig



Hotel Finlen


My pasty barked
when I cut into it.

Big trucks banged
the dumpsters.

Seemed actually
to fuck them.

That was earlier.
Now a white slice

of hall light
from under the

closed door.
And somewhere

in the dark
on the bureau

the chained saint
Christopher

beside cough drops.




You Should Be Hearing the Sound
That a Marble Makes


There is a marble rolling slowly toward you.
A marble that can roll uphill.
Slowly over books.
Or a pile of laundry.
Doing a "load of socks."




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