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  • The Ones I Love
  • Terrance Owens (bio)

They’ve always called me Ox. Now, some of them don’t. The moon raises cities in us as we go. One of us became nothing—a rookery of stars that smash-landed in the darkness. I don’t sleep well anymore. A glass bulb sits in the back of my throat. I speak in ideas about how to bury the dead. I speak in moons and earth. There is no antidote for the amount of silence I’ve swallowed. I’m as big as the world. I carry every sentence into the distance. [End Page 8]

Terrance Owens

Terrance Owens has an MFA from Eastern Washington University. His poems have appeared in PANK #7. He works as an editor in Minneapolis.



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p. 8
Launched on MUSE
Open Access
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