R L Swihart was born in Michigan but now resides in Long Beach CA. (He just completed a “road trip” — from Long Beach to Michigan and back again — stopping at various wildlife sanctuaries along the way.) His work has sparsely dotted both online and print literary journals such as Cordite, Denver Quarterly, Pif, Poetry South, and Quadrant Magazine. His third book of poetry, Woodhenge, was released July 2020.
The local tour guide believes in leather boots with wide toes. Sturdy soles. Protein for breakfast.
The young sailor said he would give me a modicum of love if I let him use my body as a harbor.
The ticket seller would prefer to meet the guests outside, order them shortest to tallest, take the most boisterous by the hand.
The skull-like villa lost / in a garden of dreams, / so seem the isle’s cimitero: ...
So here is the brief life / of men: what follows / went before of / that we know / nothing
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