SECRET MENU > POETRY
Look up, it’s Broca at the top of the trail
kicking rocks at climbers.
A black lab sniffs through leaves
around the campfire, licking up anything
that managed to spill over, twitching an ear at
the occasional soft murmur from a tent.
Right when you want to say something
words rockslide out.
The frontal lobe chops up
reality and desire on the same plate
and no one remembered
the good knives.
Zippers wake up the sun and the ritual act
involves such delicate fingers of pine.
Look up, there’s a hawk’s nest,
tangled knot of branches,
two or three babies
speaking down to us.
Mike Bagwell is a writer and software engineer in Philly. He received an MFA from Sarah Lawrence and his work appears or is forthcoming in Action Spectacle, ITERANT, Sprung Formal, Heavy Feather, HAD, Bodega, Okay Donkey, and others, some kindly nominating him for a Pushcart. He is the author of the chapbooks A Collision of Soul in Midair (Bottlecap Press 2023), Or Else They Are Trees (El Aleph Press), and a micro When We Look at Things We Steal Their Color and Grow Heavy Under Their Weight (Rinky Dink Press 2024). Find him at mikebagwell.me, @low_gh0st, or playing dragons with his daughters.