ROBIN WYATT DUNN

Robin Wyatt Dunn writes and teaches in Los Angeles.

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​burnt out over the edge
an ember over the sun
burning luminous--
thrust fill and 'scape the earth
ash whirl round and out:
find out what where and who
for everything you are

​the little man pursues his dream behind his screen of death
shifting many things beneath his robe
the cope the dope the rope the soap the terrible burden of love
all colors and all mysteries are pasty white behind his eyes
the dry and life shred easily sighing their way with them:
hear me describe
hear me enliven
hear me divide his head from the screen:
here, boy, let me tell you:
it was a bad idea,
this little dream
come out
and in
this sin is nothing special
just provincial
this landscape knows no god and no device
it's alive

​and with a woman he stems out to find
the rule
the sooner tool
bray mound and roll
the earning of the luck
and the sterning of the fool into a warrior
no use but reuse
in the long bowl of the depression
and no winning but through terror
each your own
come in, and sit down
and be ready for the mull
of the engines
we bring you
now surround

​break mask and fail
take here the better staff to beat her in
the district cold cartoon and fled:
break the lost last and lust for better better better be
I die the right king underneath this singing