Brian Foley

Chortles

Come back to the apple.
Nobody dies in a list.
On the chin I have hidden
a latch but the grin
buckles at a gulf of trench
ant balk, lifting volume from
sinking muscles mulled.
Shake down my eyes indifferent.
Slabs that dark within their bars.
I know these axes staple
such clogs loose, for listen moves
ruled, moonless, aloof
when I think laughing
has buried me in a rank. Whose.






Brian Foley's first collection of poems, The Constitution, is forthcoming from Black Ocean. He's authored several chapbooks including Going Attractions (Greying Ghost, 2012) & TOTEM, out soon from Fact-Simile Editions. Recent poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Fou, The Paris American, ILK, iO: a journal of New American Poetry, Sixth Finch, The Volta, and Aesthetix. With Julia Cohen he co-edits Saltgrass and w EB Goodale, he runs Brave Men Press. He lives well in Western Massachusetts.