Marcos Oro Poems

In the synapses of air
You rolled around in clumps
of mud. Scabrous, mugged.
...

Cinema of still such
sounding minimally a bell, a long snow.

Blinking-
...

No filters. Made coffee, with a ring of
grounds

Reminded of Saturn and that I must return.
...

Nor do they have to. On Thursday-
The single drop of water, glass
Bead bursting sun
...

1.

We rode up.
Pitched a tent.
...