Showing posts with label Mark Gilbert. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mark Gilbert. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 11, 2026

Mark Gilbert

corridor conversation
my conscience
is killing me

— Mark Gilbert

Friday, February 27, 2026

Tuesday, October 28, 2025

Monday, September 29, 2025

Wednesday, August 20, 2025

Mark Gilbert

bolting spinach
the ghost’s
bitter touch

— Mark Gilbert



rusted barbed wire
another twist
of her scrunchie

— Mark Gilbert

Friday, August 1, 2025

Tuesday, February 11, 2025

Monday, November 11, 2024

Monday, September 2, 2024

Friday, June 7, 2024

Mark Gilbert

scratchings in the ceiling
a bad smell
in the spare room

— Mark Gilbert

Friday, April 5, 2024

Mark Gilbert

beneath the boardwalk
an open-mouthed expression
in the murk

— Mark Gilbert

Thursday, March 14, 2024

Wednesday, March 1, 2023

Mark Gilbert

cutting away
before he closes
his lips

— Mark Gilbert



this verbless
death dance
of the greenbottle

— Mark Gilbert

Thursday, January 26, 2023

Monday, January 9, 2023

Mark Gilbert

before the accident
his left hand
could never play Chopin

— Mark Gilbert



on the tourist trail
church gates rattling—
a peal of thunder

— Mark Gilbert

Thursday, November 17, 2022

Sunday, October 16, 2022

Mark Gilbert

a clunk
in the back of the cupboard
the cocoon splits

— Mark Gilbert



a faint wailing
sirens on the wind
perhaps I’m the ghost

— Mark Gilbert

Sunday, September 25, 2022

Mark Gilbert

the dead look behind the eyes

— Mark Gilbert



at the windows
the faces of those
who once were neighbors

— Mark Gilbert

Wednesday, June 23, 2021

Friday, May 28, 2021