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David Bottoms

Poetry

Mar/Apr 2016

Dress Blues

By David Bottoms

Bad luck, he believed, to throw away a Bible. So a small stack moldered on a table in the basement— a pocket New Testament with Psalms and Proverbs, a gilded […]

Poetry

Fall 2008

My Mother’s Abscess

By David Bottoms

The receptionist, in her marbled booth, jabs a pink nail into the phone. All day, maybe, she hasn't noticed the potted ficus between the revolving doors. The potted ficus! Maybe […]

Poetry

Summer 2002

Little Drop of Wickedness

By David Bottoms

Ruckus around tie bird feeder—too greedy mockingbirds mugging a cardinal— and a small wind whirling                                         up from the creek beyond the cul-de-sac, but no other disturbance, no ado, no alarm […]

Poetry

Summer 2001

Homage to Buck Cline

By David Bottoms

At the edge of town, just past Landers' Rexall Drugstore, the road whipped right, then hard downhill over the tracks of the L & N Railroad, and one night in […]

Poetry

Spring 1997

On Methodist Hill

By David Bottoms

for Joy Mallard 1 Shab of a plundered tomb, crust and leaf-stain, litter of wet newspaper, sandwich wrapper, pizza box, stench of sardine and wine— in the wind it hisses […]

Poetry

Spring 1997

An Owl

By David Bottoms

Twice through a bedroom window I've seen the homed owl drop from the oaks to panic the rabbit in my neighbor's backyard. Last night he paced for an hour across […]

Poetry

Winter 1986

White Swan

By David Bottoms

Purple necks and green, fat drakes whiter than Easterlive on our five acres of suburban waterwith one gray goose, a Canadian honkerwho came a year ago and settled.And occasionally other […]