Poetry by Corey Mesler

Big Bill and Me

Big Bill Broonzy
shows up at all hours.
I can barely step
over the blues on my stoop.
In the afternoon
Bill and I watch all the new
shows. He taps his
foot to the soundtracks. I
eat my birdsnest
full of buckshot, a meal, if
only for the time left.


Bunuel’s Car

“The man who cannot visualize a horse galloping on a tomato is an idiot.”
— Andre Breton

We are all
still in
the backseat
of Bunuel’s car.
We are still learning
his roads, his ess
curves, his juxta-
positions. We may be
eyeless, sexless,
cruel as children.
We may want only
to fuck in the mud.
We may want merely
to bite the hand
that pets us.
In the end there will
always be the
black bed.
In the end, the
crippled, Christ-like
of the animal orgy.


About Corey Mesler

Corey Mesler has been published in numerous journals and anthologies. He has published four novels, a full-length poetry collection, a book of short stories, as well as a dozen chapbooks of both poetry and prose. He has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize numerous times, and two of his poems have been chosen for Garrison Keillor’s The Writer’s Almanac.  With his wife, he runs Burke’s Book Store, one of the country’s oldest (1875) independent bookstores.

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