Brian Brown

Archaeology of the Everyday

Scars are everywhere on this land–~
				Weatherbeaten barns stitched
				Onto the thick skin of my ancestors.

				A malignancy of chinaberry trees
				Slips into quiet remission,
				Ghosts of shade run amok
				From the darkest days of the Depression.
				
				Late cucumbers succumb 
				On skinny backyard fences,
				While cotton is finished
				Nearly as soon as it is planted,
				Trampled by a machinery
				Inconsiderate of these fields.

				The economy of daylight proves
				A broken promise as I move
				With heavy luggage into winter.

				Passing the dream-cemeteries
				The failures of my fathers
				Twinkle on the dawn,
				Like stars that wash their headstones.

				Their cries ride the echoes of coyote
				At woods’ edge. Fear uncaged.

				If I stand here long enough,
				My shoes will become my grave.

Summer Fiction				
				
			Your side of the bed is bathed in a soft veil of stars, 
			buoyed by a charm of goldfinches who ferry me
			deep into the cloudless chiffon of sleep. Swoosh of the fan.

			There’s a pile of your winter clothes lying on the floor 
			beside your favorite old chest from the farm,
			a stack of Pink Floyd CDs from your darkest phase.

			But there isn’t one single picture of you in the room. No
			graven images to feed your burgeoning God complex,
			especially now that I can’t touch anyone 
			without first touching you, can’t smell anyone 
			without wondering why he doesn’t smell like you.

			And the fabulous stories all the new ones tell. 

			All lies, fuss and feathers, unlike our old parables,
			which were instant replays of our grandmothers’
			runaway mules or bloody midnight lynchings
			in oaks beside the baptizing creek. Hard and true.

			Our time together was like an airport paperback
			we carried in a bright little tote down to the beach, 	
			but never finished between shots of cheap tequila, 
			collecting numbers in the kitschy hotel bar.

			It was truth laid bare, left to itself, becoming fiction.
				
			_____

			Brian Brown spent several years researching the capture 
of Jefferson Davis for the Georgia Department of Natural 
Resources and Georgia Public Television. Recent work has 
appeared or is forthcoming in Santa Clara Review, Inkwell, 
Quercus Review, Keyhole, Roanoke Review, and Farfelu.