Issue 9 – Winter 2005 – Marcus Slease

Marcus Slease


Writing Out Possession

You can break and steer by folding one wing. Way out west 
the poppies blow between tombstones while beauty rides 
convulsive undertones & tortured tangos. IT sticks out like 
a sore thumb. How to recount what has not been counted? 
These bricks build a broken home. A dough-shaped void and 
locusts drenched in honey. Words cross tongues. Lemon center 
with an orange twist. Passion is anything that can be erased.


a hole 
                in the coffin 
        lets in some light 
        but there’s 
no one there

lump of sand & 
a fist forever 
         a history that’s apt 
         to fail

the stars
at white heat 
a series 
of tendencies
                           and we acquire
                           a “moving visual thinking”


a greenish brownish 
liquid backed up 
the tub

one form 

while other forms 
crowd the entry




heightens & ob-
literates & by the time 
the sleepy-headed 
turf wakes up 
from winter 
decorative bodies 
are laid out across the lawn



Marcus Slease is a native of Portadown, N. Ireland. He currently lives and teaches in North Carolina and is a member of the Lucifer Poetics Group. He contributes poetry reviews and audio for miPO Radio (