Bleat by Barbara Guest

drawn on the burden of light
the pottery throw
in bleat turning

ballast makes fingers twitch
shutters close
“going to pour”

wet to root and pavement
tent sagging like an oyster

“the city has another soul”

gnat passes someone swallows
“another soul”


“the city also”
stole the bench and echoes

blight and shuttered bleat
soul chews a wilted corner

by Barbara Guest

from The Collected Poems of Barbara Guest (Wesleyan Poetry)

photo by artbychrysti via flickr

LEICA by Barbara Guest

Others about the embarking
have reasons. I holding shreds
carpenter leavings.

Motions in the wind,
wave rolling

disturb sad plots,
disturbing sad plots.

Desolate places
on the grass
where birds are a light,

Gather in midsummer,
wood shingles,
visionary house.

Taking glances
from tree to eave,

bicyclist, car,
dark green spots

for the movement
of window.

Mowing bitter edges, too.

It passes,
whatever it is.

Day divided by night.
Corn ears.

Whichever decides.

Constructed of film
Day or night.

Barbara Guest