Brent House
Augur of Cribbing
A stable bitten & chewed board by board laid with an empty bed of ground forest
remnants hoped for
by innocence in grain & in bone will cleave as dust shook from a white horse rises
as if his flesh were field
under a heavy harrow
easily broken as clods by teeth as iron bits wet by rage & possession of memory
rooted in feral
climbing of hills
leaping of branches
running over rough terrain
wildness shaldered & cast to trail as wind marked onerous appears heaved in a sky
skittish neigh near
I am withering & broken limbs reaching out to ground as rose scars lilt from swaths
skin bursts under pine
a noble unbridled taut rip of soil with fear & tare I fall into a makeshift whip & hold fast
as straw & clay
would embellish breezes with delicate bent wrist scarred union
would embellish a soft lope with abated silence along rivers
as fire drowns in a cinch of reins visions are pitched down low swung spirits lament
unguents of sap anoint
a fallen copse fascicles humbly gather fervor as dry tenderness nuises our soil
lifted under hooves.
Augur of Croft
Still grasses endoss summer field out near goldenrod & aster as cattails stand a son upon peril
a son who shall not trail into thickets of reluct to find a ball for he comes full into clay
comes full four
into four our field broken by a fiveedged plate as a heart is broken by a coarct aorta
by a third sack
for into three the heart of a son may not be sealed as shadows of foul poles break
as arteries of blood
black as september white bodies of terror released a thick void & coming into sacred
land upon which I
offer a son as a red himation to my left heart broken a red son who hangs on my neck
as generation
marrows my manred sin into scars sublime & straight lines of her leaving & a box I cannot
balk
so I stand draw a line in flesh with a barrel heavy with tar of my pines.
Augur of Cursor
1.
He shall walk in grassfields of inheritance . . . allowance & recompence
as heirs loam & all other good demands bare feet & scapeless wet blades . . . strains of stained
sole
sayers of absence . . . spread thy sight around thee & see in greenprints of dewy impasture
a way among barb & pale . . . & hear a second shofar a reverberation of mere soil
& he shall walk into hollows
among hammocks of laurel & pungent bays in innominate wilt
as his blood backs into his generation he will walk among cogon & weave a red valance
under a pillar of repentance for our barns haf na faders in liue.
2.
He shall walk among sands & his ingredience shall be salt & ray
finned . . . shells broken under bare feet & horizon broken by tide
waves to carry sandbars as rows of teeth open a weighted chest . . . as treasure
founders in a shallow artery . . . as our water & flesh crashes against a blue
key
& he shall preserve our island place & deliver us to refuge . . . compass us toward horns
of barchan as roots anchor & release
as stolon hearts in adventitious years & he shall walk into a refraction of emerald
for there the flode is shold . . . standis stillist.
3.
He shall walk in a fractured valley & a wellbored path shall fall under
his bare feet shall pulse with the slick blood propped in his veins . . . a sternum broken
swollen water leads to a precordial quake of history from seafloor to estuary
to longleaf & to outcrop . . . our most dire recount clast
fragile
& perfused among our riven rock as a transumpt of the labor of our hands
so our sins forever flow . . . unatoned & alone . . . I walk to the mountain
& in my hand I carry a vessel of brackish grace & a cone of penitent pine
or mi sone þat hange apon þat croice . . . reuli on me behelde.
BIO
BRENT HOUSE, an editor for The Gulf Stream: Poems of the Gulf Coast and a contributing editor for The Tusculum Review, is a native of Necaise, Mississippi, where he raised cattle and watermelons on his family’s farm. Slash Pine Press published his first collection, The Saw Year Prophecies, and his poems have appeared in journals such as Colorado Review, Cream City Review, Denver Quarterly, The Journal, and Third Coast. New poems are forthcoming in The Kenyon Review and elsewhere.