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  • Anxious Poets Society

Gazteligatze, a Funeral


When you held the last of your mother’s remains Our new friend Arnau and I watched from stone stairs As you kneeled above the cross you placed In a rock pool And waited. To me, he whispered incredible things. He’d never seen the tide so low: A shoreline of shale was made, just for you, he supposed, Like amends from the moon; Barnacles were feeding, and dogs arrived To renew their olfaction by gutweed and magic.

Basques rang the bell at the hermitage, Beyond us, never ceasing. A loafing child sat on a ridge, making Sense of the Cantabrian, seismically. A mist gathered, And when the island’s shearwaters Started lustwheezing, That’s when I lost you.

Arnau lit a cigarette as we walked down And called your name. Night rushed, winds rushed, I coughed through smoke and my cornea itched: Tenses of Lisa before and again - What a drag. I wiped ashes from my eyes; It was completely irrelevant if they were Hers or his.

 

johnny paglino is a musician and author from tampa, florida. in his decade-and-change experience writing and releasing music, most recently under the moniker dolphins, his experiences with academia, addiction and tragedy during florida’s pill epidemic have given him a unique perspective reflected in his work, which deals with diverse topics such as tropicalia, child trafficking, political repression and ordinary heartbreak.

he currently resides with his dog, kaiser, in park city, utah.

johnnypaglino.com

#remains #waited #incredible #moon #tide #mist #smoke

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