home | bios
Joshua Beckman & Matt Rohrer
previous | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | next
Short Poems for Hurt, Virginia
credit yourself
until you’re sick to your stomach

those girls
are mine

big darkness

the porch
the clawfoot tub

get home by six
and make me dinner

after the prom
the real fun begins

old devil’s step
softly by the family

the dark road
believes in time

four reflectors
for me and four for you

shop girl on break
get in my truck

the brown hound
locked in the bathroom

town closed down
the end of an empire

the hotel
is a motel

house by the highway
of lies

the party’s going to be
terrible without me

the desperate straits of
Hurt, Virginia

After work lets
get involved

Johnny chopped down the tree
with his ignorance

where is everyone
thought the policeman

cold night on main street
go-carts revving in the park

a handful of gems
in the Chinese movie

working late on a school night
I discovered astronomy

in a small town with half a tank of gas
you can still be King

young couple sitting in their car
while I’m watching TV

Truck drivers following truck drivers
to the urinal

the church opened
its legs

This truck stop
serves brains

At the Fountain Motel
she staunched the flow

A half-filled hot tub
a big fat man

Tragic ambiance
super silver

Sameness inside
likely homes

Memory propels
my education

Tell me about your school
and I’ll give you a lollipop

Lynchburg on the straight and narrow
with ten more days of parole

Highway patrolman looking
through binoculars

The price of this rural life
is painstakingly obvious

What if we encounter

For sale:
ten thousand puppies

For sale:
a heart inside a lie

in this sweater
I’m finally me

The searchlight advertised
class advancement

the mayor of Hurt
had a girlfriend in Lynchburg

a pound of cherries
crushed and stared at

main street Virginia
bring me home

out on the river
a southern gentleman

A night of sleep
will cost you

Hundreds of churches
can’t be wrong

galloping by
the city of Hurt

A wayward soldier
had his portrait taken

A bit of security
a bit of honey

crushed metal railing
reminds me of you

State park ranger
drunk and unarmed

out on the hillside
drops of dew

selling trailers

a line of cars
patiently waiting

tomorrow you’ll realize
that you were right

relaxed nighttime driving
the stomach’s asleep

I won’t fry what I don’t recognize
not tonight

bad decisions
made by bad drivers

the southern drive-in
turned derby quickly

come to a complete stop
and finish your pizza

They looked different
narrow, it seemed

Quartz morning exhaled
a dew on the lawn

She sniffled
and crushed what she could

Is your home really freedom
Go ask your mother

Landscape with rifles
surprisingly fine

previous | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | next