Mother and father

Mother and father

Here lies buried

Your unwritten law

There

For I am

Speechless

What took of custom

Has no niche

No sacred home

There

For I move

Yet restless

Over the landscape

Slightly bowed

A sun bequeathed

Of gravity

If only

You kept us secret

Mother and father

Rather than

Broad casting

Your fondest

Wishes reckless

Laws unto themselves

I find myself

Here

Wishing I were

Secret still

Children, please

Repeat after me

I must not play

Time out

Tom McGlynn

copyright 2016

When awakened

When awakened

Or just before birth

There you will have

Discovered dances in

Tibetan snow

Or an eagle craning

Or gold dust

Streaming down

To just then be taken

By a sportsman

Weighing his catch

Hemmed in by gadgets

Ringing this reservoir

Impounded

As it were

You gasp on

Watery meant

A gape for

Your ownliest

Remembering now

What you were

Rudely orphaned

Raised in races

Process pelleted

Your silver sides

Swaddled for

Domestic consumption

Tom McGlynn

copyright 2016

A pleasure to

A pleasure to

Get to mete

Eight days removed

And lucky-guessed

You

Or someone

Waiting for

That last

Part to dry

The performance

Was disrupted

Latest to be called

As close as I can

Without going over

The branches

Blue again

Who was ever

Meant to reason

With the whether

Or not

I would flatten

You so against

The laden willows

Tom McGlynn

copyright 2016   

I might even

I might even

Lose some

Friends because

Of it

As long as

I am fortunate

I can surely say

This windswept
Coastal outpost
You all mind
If I praise
God

Tom McGlynn

copyright 2016

Real photos

Real photos

Of the wild

West especially

Those we don’t

Already know

And understand

Like immature

Eagles dive fire

On the mountain

Tom McGlynn
copyright 2016

If anyone needs

If anyone needs

Some unexpected

Gift to them

With my low

Level of achievement

I don’t know

If I can make it

But my parenthesis

Will be there

In all honesty

What is wrong

With people

One of the worst

Concepts for

A monument for

The master’s tools

Is broken

Would have- beens

Soundly defeated

Train themselves

Another bear

Alarmism saved

Alarmism saved

My family from

Hitler I played

That song for

You once.

Tom McGlynn

copyright 2016

Experience

Experience

The new voice

Of literature

You who ridicule

We indicative of

Electronic rigging

Have already coined

Fist as paws

But I don’t think

It’s a model picture

See how we

Are helping men

To succeed

When you can’t
Say something in words

Tom McGlynn

copyright 2016

The vitality

The vitality

Of daring artists

Woke up yesterday

Kept meaning

To tell you

Protesters dressing

Up as cops

Without standing

In sight what

A wind for

Us all

Tom McGlynn

copyright 2016

Of a course (after Emily Dickinson's #49)

Of a course

The summer’s army hums

Still in this lot-allot this song

Toward many broad nights

All bleary-eyed

Cross fields of Dove

And kills of Cole

To lay down brown

On river’s edge

Scaffold to

A piping wren

Shaken feet

Of clay and soot

That smell of muskrat

Housed in banks

Unbearing wind

And godly springs
November sets 

It's bones

Tom McGlynn

copyright 2016

Tom McGlynn

copyright 2016

For those of you

For those of you

Interested in the new

Materialism

Like the slow

Movement over

The image

Brags that he made

Sure

Love and sex

With robots

For information

And to enroll

Tom McGlynn

copyright 2016