J Ryan Bermuda

Settling

The small hours of the

night are growing

and you

are Rome un-

excavated blood

vessels behind

my ears sound

like boots in snow

this house is settling

The phases of the

moon are

I don’t

sleep I

won’t sleep

I can’t

you are the word

value or wealthy

or ages

0-2

every orange

slice ever bitten into

I mourn each

particle too small

to be seen

Little Lamb

The percussion alone of

Let there be light spread photons

far enough for our door to swell

9 days later my heart began to hum blood travels

much faster with no breaths   Mosquito,

you left me mad

with fever and I

heard it all

nothing stays secret

falling asleep you sound like falling

down stairs

9 days and unemployed magicians lined

the streets of Jerusalem 9 days to name

all constellations after great men and

animals an apology

for being burned by the sun

What hung on the mobile

of the little Lamb?

Bio

J Ryan Bermuda lives in Redlands, California, where people panic if it rains. His work has been published or is forthcoming in local journals such as The Sand Canyon Review, Tin Cannon, Dead Snakes poetry blogzine, Stone Path Review, The Camel Saloon, East Jasmine Review, Inlandia and the Wilderness House Literary Review. He and his wife Joanna’s adventures as foster parents serve as inspiration for his upcoming manuscript From Hell To Breakfast.