seeing/saying

Tuesday, January 3, 2017

Previously frozen

Soil is breathing

Out led

The way

In new media

The link below

On this day

Any film

Streaming

Maybe the only

Time you’ll get

To stand

Tom McGlynn

Friday, December 30, 2016

What is

Footage

That revolve

A complex system

More places

Stunning color

Your brightness

Short-lived

Forever

Tom McGlynn

Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Jesus in the new world

Undertaking measures

Packaged up but

Still bent

By force steps

Shown here

Generates a platform

Surplus of query

And command

Where everything

Finally stuck

In dividual drives

What looks outside

Tom McGlynn

Wednesday’s child

In a white field

With a wolf

Both profiles next

As one day
From the distance.

Tom McGlynn

Tuesday, December 27, 2016

Changes of a foot

Maybe I’m not

As shell-shocked

As you, resigned

For the first time

In almost

The way things

Simply are

Walking to

And fro

Tom McGlynn

Monday, December 26, 2016

Welcome to a whole

New world

Of entertainment

Many of us

Have mean time

Off while

The branches still

Hold snow

Tom McGlynn

Tuesday, December 20, 2016

First joy

In a while

Too decades

Have shaped

My understanding

The invisibilization

As delined in cells

Momentarily snap

Us out

Tom McGlynn

The amount of time

This had to take

Resort to

Officially or

On hiatus

About this

Kind of thing no

More than lip

Service is given

Gloss

These old white crooks

Look for that warm

And fuzzy feeling

Counting on coup

And a scattering

Of crow

Don’t feel it’s realistic

To watch the first footage

Tom McGlynn

Sunday, December 18, 2016

The sun out of bed stood (after Elizabeth Bishop)

The sun out of bed stood
Blinded by a waning moon
(of certain without humility, of himself,
As he always, always brows down)
Close and near inside sleeplessness
As if uncertain he’s a nighttime walker

Of a microcosm inhabited,
He'd glare it, under heavens
Or he'd loose a tide of sand
Either a shore, off which he would outcast
Unwrapped distain on a dusted shelf
Or to fetch shadows from a castle mound

Out of this stormy invention he's righted
And what's righted is ever left
Where suns are foggy spread
As he slept all day
When hell is as deep as the storm line

Isn’t it then shallow, as damp his sandy stain

Tom McGlynn

Thursday, December 15, 2016

Quietly sold

Turned away from

This lovely plot

Of earth

Plowed under

A terrible

Mirror sky

At first light

Then unbearable

Suggestion eats

All its way

To the bank

Tom McGlynn