Robin Wyatt Dunn

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3 Untitled

The swamp curls magnificent out of your hair
Out of your face
The richness of its swirls stark raving glad
Cut like lines in stones
The freeway hovers over its green mass
Fearing the bright edges of the leaves




the man attracts the world
like the buoy the ocean
sticking his teeth into the cement
to mark the change from dark to light
from rim to edge
the feeling of the light the salt and drift stuck on his thumb
the barley breath heeding the sound of the horn trapped in the sky:
howling and howling



look deeper into the pain
as you would the sea
the brittle sigh of the melody of words of sound and water
the region of space allotted for you
enormous and thrilling in its chill
the cold morning mist of the summer
shaking itself into your skin


Robin Wyatt Dunn was born in Wyoming in 1979. You can read more of his work at