from dark room by Cameron Lovejoy

transom ambush


[|]    the window red is window    [|]    reading blood    [|] 

a brooding wind      [|]      proposes something in a swarm 

of silk  [|]  out there  [|]  is a breathing task  [|]  to squint 

the throat for something calm      [|]      inhales darkness 

through a frosty glass   [|]   spirits calling on the crimson 

tongue  [|]  a lasting question  [|]  the dew on the window 

drips  [|]  exhausting dusk [|] in velvet red  [|]  the ringing 

in the head that aches & tells this glass to tremble         [|] 

tells this raspy angle    [|]    what it means to trust a house



logic laundering


the paranormal clucks

at logic’s deep sweat



clocks in too deep reflect illogical fabric, rag sweat glistens



gaffer fabrication deepens in the shadow

cosmicity the image the cloth the rain meant

in logic to demoralize sweat



pallid rags luff by the indoor wind, deep

in the lining lows

a gnarled face



what is meant of the shepherd is abnormal in the robe



psychology of garments hanging on a line



windowless sensory


solitude’s zoology
shifts in the dark cellar 

damp & a collar
on the broken neck 

rafters drip some
pungent substance 

through the umbral
torture what gathers 

postures of rats 

in confluence with the tenement gnaw on deep secrets

nothing collaborates with light

the findings in
unmentioned pith 

allows owls
turning thoroughly 

dirt to reach 

the ghost
yawning bloody in      the canal, carnal 

the fixture to resemble its negative
against seeing the twitched 

nerve again the cave against
observing again the knew

m O o n



Cameron Lovejoy is a self-taught poet and fine printer living in New Orleans. He operates Tilted House, a small press focused on intimately made handbound books. His work can be found or is forthcoming in Denver Quarterly, DIAGRAM, Ghost Proposal, and others.