slow to draw


i am slow to draw
but quick with the trigger
years wasted
pulling weeds

now i plant seeds

i’m a late bloomer
but the wait
for this late spring
was worth it

it took more time
than hoped
but i finally rest my bones
in a place where
there is enough rain
to wash all the dirt
and blood from the past



Words and Image: B. Reeves


cut loose


behind my back

into my kisses

into my mouth

just don’t cut me

Words and Image: B. Reeves

i got time

i got time

i smile through
broken teeth
when they whisper
he will end badly

i’ve found rock bottom
more than once
and if you can manage
to survive
the fall
the view from
down below
is really quite something

i picked myself up
sucking the marrow
from my own broken bones
resetting the breaks
tied off
the severed veins
crudely stitched
my head
back onto my neck
and crawled my way out
of dirty graves
lids closing too soon

rattling and running
my undying body
across fields
under bridges
down alleyways
hunting for more
of everything
gambling against
betting on
how many more lives
i have
than other people
how many
more times
i can die

i keep a death deck
in my back pocket
for those lost souls
that want to try
both their luck
and me

i got time

wanna play?


Image: Boolynn & B. Reeves

Words: B. Reeves

run with dogs


from the world
asleep upon my
scarecrow cross
as a murder
of crows
tumbles and cackles
on the wind

knock the dust
off the phone
on rare nights
when it dares
to ring
receiver to ear
and unhinge my jaw
to make room
for the scream

one more time
you tell me
you aren’t a good listener
i know
i know
but you should have known

and now
i live each day
back in the hills
running with dogs
and chewing on bones
i never really wanted
to fly
and after the crash
i’ve found
the ground
is a better place
for me

pull the cord
from the wall
throw the phone
out the window
i said my goodbye
a long time ago
the echo of it
you still hear



Image: Boolynn & B. Reeves

Words: B. Reeves

like mr. jones


sitting in a child’s chair
next to my daughter’s bed
her quiet breathing
marking time to my thoughts
and barbed wire dreams

she sleeps
deep and calm
something to envy
something i don’t do
so terribly well

thunder rumbles
bending the air
shaking windows
disturbing her rest
i calm her
with one warm hand
upon the small of her back
and with my other hand
reach through the window
grab the lightning
and before it cracks again
tuck it behind my ears
with a whisper
and a wish

thunder rolls again
hear my bear dog
mr. jones
scratching at the side door
figure he too
wants shelter from the storm
open the door
blood on his furry face
his eyes smiling at me
tail wagging
dead wolf
mangled at his feet
i wipe his face
and tell him
he’s a good dog
for protecting the family
a good dog
for keeping the wolf at bay
hug him around
his bloody neck
as he knocks me over
in excited pride

i wrestle
with dreams i don’t share
for the sake of those i love
with dreams i don’t utter
for the sake of myself
i lost track of frings
after the crash
or maybe deep down
i know
he lost track of me
i’m not angry
i’m not resentful
we fell from the sky
like a broken bird
shot through the heart
and i disappeared
into the hot desert sand
40 broken bones
a coma for a year

what could i expect
of him

but the truth is
i listen for him
in the echoes
of conversations
i look for him
in the reflection
of things



Image: Boolynn & B. Reeves
Words: B. Reeves


9-26 B

ice on barbed wire
unstable atmosphere
gun shy
at nothing more
than a leaf

clouds and memory
stick to the trees
fire up the coffee
pull myself
from the ground
at my mad rooster’s call
break the day and



Words and Image: B. Reeves

still sounds good

six l

rain gray missouri monday
for my flight out
the planes and people
come and go
killing time
with memory and wine

i heard from someone
who knows someone
that might know
six bought a patch of land
the kind i used to say
i would
when the time was right
when the dust settled
and i got my shit together

a little place
somewhere in the country
with room for animals
room for myself
a place with a river
running outside the back door
a short walk
to bait a hook
throw in my line
and let the calm waters
tell me when
the day is done with me

heard his wife
rides horses
heals broken animals
and with one hand free
keeps his wild wheels
from jumping off
the tracks

heard his daughter
curses in latin
writes poetry in french
grows plants without soil
makes sense of stars
and speaks
with the crows

heard he looks like
a long-haired
gray-bearded wizard
writes all day
howls at the moon
all night
guarded at all times
by a russian bear dog
bigger than a car
that scares away strangers
and barks at his ghosts

skies grow darker
boarding my plane
heading back home
to empty all the buckets
filling with rainwater
from holes in the ceiling
i never seem to fix

i’m not sure what state
six is in
but i gotta say
as i fold this memory
and stash away
this forgotten plan

it all
still sounds so good
to me


Words and Image: B. Reeves