Three Poems


Andrew Brenza





catbird/everything you see



i speak your scars

like i speak of trees

like trees speak a name

the one we live in

drupelet of sorrow

that is you wet with song





horizon/no horizon



there is no horizon we live in

the horizon it is our skin pretending time is something

sensing wind slants sunlight





a part/apart



this is not the shape of flame a body means

never to be alone darkness rustles rut-less soft-

petalled a conscious hum reflection’s electric

company a part/apart at the same time

somehow fields of blank flowers it’s unspeakable name










Andrew Brenza is the author of the chapbooks 21 Skies (Shirt Pocket Press, 2015), And Then (Grey Book Press, 2016) and 8 Skies (forthcoming from Beard of Bees Press).  His first full-length collection, Gossamer Lid, was recently published by Trembling Pillow Press.  Most days, he works as the director of a small public library in southern New Jersey.