Alec Witthohn

Mama I plead the dawn
Red fern by northern star
Pick her teeth, little fox child
With the dead moon in her jaw
...

Come down from the mountain
She grinned like ice, grilling me
Coming down slowly alive

Hold my eyes, drink the pines
...

Frowning, turning, fierce
Olive,
Donning no shoes.

One fist raised.
...

Well look who it is
Three porters
Of the Darling Dauphin
Periwinkle.
...

Where go the Italian scootsters
With De Niro faces and gold chains?
Where go the surf headed looters
With straw for hair and flip flopped feet?
...

I asked for lemons;
For a way
To stream fire down
My cheeks
...

Don't stop the eagle now.
When it comes holding thumbs
Rearing a brow in the evening.
...

White on rice
Stringing lemon lime
Lights.
...

Mountains of gray
Water.

He peaks over
...

Soft, clean dew
Retires
Underneath yellow blossom.
...

Closer to death so far in black
Floating in my suited shield.
What no man should see
A storm of bewilderment.
...

Hollow wispy smoke
Climbs.

Scaling bristled, weathered
Whiskers.
...