Phelps Frederic Pond, Jr. Poems

When I named her Skull
I knew she'd mull over the intricacies
Of a name like Skull
Score the porcelain bone
...

Wax frame
like a light near flicker refrain
or the cold neath liquoury pains
and an old dog shivers in the rain come down
...

Nightly in the collar dream
her button broke
an ill-stitched seam meandering like spokes
the woman wheel one wagon-weaned
...

Annishell annishell
Annishell leave
Leaving your armor your tresses your grief
Grief for the farmer a dollarless seed
...