Sky Lock


Miguel Cullen


The town’s crop
Beneath the coy spring sky.
The churning mercury of cloud
Conceals an etiquette to be observed –
These wheels are notched –
There is a code.
‘Mi yegua es la luz mala
De las crines de carbon’

The safe’s aeolate configuration
The bow arcs
In pure pulse
And blows a white dart
Through the twelve axe heads.









One thought on “Sky Lock

Leave a Reply