Michael Joseph Ferguson

There's a stone
in my pocket

and a storm
...

The final approach is most important

the seconds before skin meets brass
...

the licking and lapping of a pomegranate -
a crimson yearning for the condensation
of the morning dew
...

Bounding through time
like a bumper car
Towards the next act
in my Houdini show
...

She stood
just outside
of view
...

rest a while

some strange new dance
is coming to you
...

home, 

a tribal remedy

  beat

   stone
        
...
    

    

        
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no one ever taught me to stop

it was always about the movement
...

she lives in a magazine, full time

just adjacent to the impulse buys at the front counter
...

Ca-tung... Ca-tung...

the slip of rain across the bent corrugated metal rooftop of the shed
...

my shadow's wake
plum and full with longing

and the silent moving meadows below indicate
...

still no consensus

 on the sound

  the frog made
        
...
    

    

        
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They say the
neanderthal
still lives
inside us
...

Dear Lord,

Give me a poem -
...

Talk is cheap
it's silence that's
precious 'round here
...

I long to praise you

completely
detached from
...

Increase your knowledge

start with the tip of your nose
...

You should

You should try
...

Maybe we'll find it:

that one choice
...

I drip like seeds
onto your fertile soil
splashing in patterns
of refined thought
...