Kyle Kaczmarick

Honeymoon

where they lay

pasteled, framed in oak

they fit convex/

concaved

in their bed

with

damask sheets and

the same sun

across them—

that they cannot

speak or move

the maroon

room, its sole window

channels the off-

canvas sun

actually

*

They were married

in the lake

the moon

moons across

she could have

said.

*

Imagine:

y’all both

in a maroon

room

your window

just so

so daylight

just-sos

across y'alls

legs

it’s almost

not allowed

here.

 

An Inconsequential Argument

black cattle moored

in the pasture

yes it was a long drive

up here

but

I wanted to show you

an important place:

the land funnels

down to the lake

wherein

a corrugated moon sometimes

surfaces

past the barbed wire,

downslope—

they look so lonely

yes: that’s what I said:

like black skiffs

in a bay

 

Kyle Kaczmarick is a poet currently pursuing his MFA at the University of Colorado Boulder, where he teaches undergraduate creative-writing. He's from Houston, Texas.

Recent Posts

See All

Vots de casament I hear a woman yell but she’s a bitch! She’s a bitch. I sit on the red sofas of the Monarch bar, again, a beer. La más barata, por favor. Brindo por mis tías. Many alcohólicos en mi f

THE ROAD HOME The road home is full of dusts, on your way back you would learn to take Those classes you fled from, lessons of patience, how to marry the chaos softly, How little could mean bounty som

how to banish a ghost ritual is just another name for the habits grief carves from a mourner’s tongue. you empty your mouth until you’re a rabid song knee-sunk in your mother’s garden. prayers a rift