Two Runes in the Form of Nails by Robert F. Gross


This singular performance is the only way:
nail our selves awake as blazing torches

nailed fast to the barn war of density door
row on row in bleached white sailcloth saving

for there we are there and get ourselves cut
from dark rippled motions made in mourning


Bathe everything clear foot thigh and eye
ice with steel alcohol fire let us wince

let sorcery rip to purge our minds and fasten
gods to runestaves—right now I want even us

stapled to the barn door sun—roughly captivated
hooked trout leaping scorched leopard embers

Robert F. Gross 2
Robert F. Gross just finished directing Love for Sale at Manhattan’s SoHo Playhouse. He’s hanging out at present in Rochester, NY, writing, and doing volunteer archival work at the Visual Studies Workshop. Poems of his have lately appeared in Anti-Heroin Chic, Literary Orphans, and Strange Poetry.




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