Three Poems by Boona Daroom

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Three Poems


Boona Daroom

Horse’s Grave

Emotionless pines

we’ve proved stir.

Red August

itching up. No ring

raising cane

when Empty came

almost completely

bored worn. Bare hearts.


 Girl with the Padlock

Girl with the padlock on her cellular

Sighs between exhales and consonants

Plight barrels through who knows

What she whorls through Alexander Hamilton

Two hours from now we’ll be fire

Slurred hocks slobbering corrosive

I hide inside salmon berry bush

Blunderings like power lines

We lay under the splayed light plastic

Dreary sentences on Fourteenth Street

The Arms Morpheus

Morning watched a glass shatter

Ice in the basement made a turtle

She dove into her sheets she

Saw reflected a mother’s face

Men tramped snow in and out

Shushing everyone was blue

And rich chicks pulled

Up black socks

At the dog track

Soldiers blathered things

About oil and containers

You shouldn’t drink from

Like robots dismantle themselves

To see all their thoughts



Boona Daroom is 29. His poetry has appeared in SOFTBLOW, LIT and

other places. He lives in Brooklyn.

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