Mary Wilson – 3 poems




Is it so small a dwelling

running to your door,

that a man, sleepwalking

with one foot on the back of

men would never hear it?

He’s dressed in your old clothes

colors, handmade, arrange his body for you

ask you if you’ve seen him

fleeted and sorry,

lancing pigeons in the world

of blue beneath his eyes.





Becomes its own escort

there is

no one else





Opposition is my spectacle.

Gulls the sky numerous.

And the expression

Not of this world.

We feed off each other.

Give rise to.

Piles, the crowd

as a wind between bodies.



Mary Wilson was born in Worcester, Massachusetts. She currently lives in Providence, Rhode Island, where she is pursuing an MFA in Literary Arts at Brown University.




About gobbet

gobbet is a literary magazine dedicated to publishing the very best experimental poetry and prose. Intellectual perversity and explorations of dark themes are positively encouraged. We are only interested in work that is progressively experimental. We want to see risks, and we want to see them pay. No previously published work. Prose should not be longer than 1000 words. There are always exceptions. Send 3-5 poems. Include a short bio. Send submissions to Work will be published every 5-10 days. We also intend to publish anthologies of selected work published in gobbet. We will do our best to reply promptly. Most submissions will receive a decision within a month.
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