William L. Alton
The following are an experiment of mine to write poems of substance in under ten lines. I read and studied haiku throughout the process but avoided syllable counting in order to retain each poems unique stylistic feel.
Trauma
I had sex six months ago
and said I was sorry.
The want comes with memories.
Even when she hums into the night
I remember what it was like
when I fucked for money.
Magic in Names
She pushed me into a corner
and said my name. Hard-like.
Biting off the syllables
as if knowing who I was
gave her some kind of power.
The Corpse
I am a corpse going to black ink
in the sunlight. I am tired and rest
under a tree in a park, sleeping
in fits and starts.
The rain catches me unaware.
I’m wet now and cold.
I am lonely as a taproot.