Poetry Issue 12:3

   Issue # 12:3 : January-June 2010

Francisco Guevara

Habeas Corpus

      And so the missing/ Adam thwarted
      “his scab flaking,” your diurnal

      redressed & televised: we were just/
      “we were following orders marred

      by meadows Adam fragged for your
      witnessed; you’re redrawn & disarming

      in the shade. Whereas, the sawed off
      index colors the soil, and your news was

      planted on its harbored, dumbed shore.
      You said it was fluorescent here, Adam.

      If your wrists were slit from its canvas,
      its signatures if sexed with a bullet hole:

      the scent of burning skin to be gnawed at.
      His derelict fortieth day against a rib cage