Adam Day

Viridian Akasa


Day is late and has no horse. Icicles
on concertina wire. Strange being

people. I cannot see my object
self. Miss grandmother and her son.

She says, Get the hell over it. Easy to find
not me. It’s okay. It was never

my life. Wipe and re-wipe aged shrunken
grandmother. Tangle of whitening

pubic hair, shingled skin of cracked lips. Just this
is it. Blue ridges blackening. Buoy bells

in fog; groaning pylons. Boat hidden
in cape reeds. A body neatly disposed of

floating to the surface. Plank
in reason. Doesn’t fuck with what comes up.


go to:

Adam Day

“Yuugen Gulf”


“Bosatsu Basswood”

“Inki Fen”