Swamp Graveyard
It’s alive here
and yet it seems so dead,
a graveyard of bald cypress,
bladderwort, sun-dew.
Fallen branches
are adorned with turtle sculptures,
lily pads, frog monuments,
and there, on the surface
of a brown, watery, mausoleum,
two gator eyes freeze solemn.
The air is thick and low
like a shroud,
once floating islands root-bound.
If it weren’t for the slithering cottonmouth,
there’d be no movement here at all.
Ironic that.
Signs of life
come down to the deadliest.
Other Works
Drain Songs
reviewed by Matt Lee
... This unpredictability is what makes Maierhofer so exciting to read. Strings of declarative statements written in all caps read like chaotic prose poems ...
Sean Kilpatrick Interview
by Matt Lee
... Collaborations are good training for instinct and humility, and I can relate to those of a different style because what unites us is the same thing that propelled humanity into and through its many conundrums ...