Thrush Poetry Journal
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Scott Hartwich

Cut(t)er

Turpid. Undeserving of want.   To   be   Wanamaker in a tiny 
town where the seconds pinch.    You said “My life is fruitless”, 
your veins palpably blue      /   I  own this. Let down the caveat 
winkling in: here would I utter a free radical thought and find 
you  a  sonneteer    /     a masque  of like brooders whose raised 
fingers  shake  point    /   to  think a thing is to redden the skin. 
We  are designed  for  simulacrum    /  our  models  with  their 
hoary bark.  There are sixteen ways to get anywhere. [the well
funded lark;      Pan’s sweet nether; Bardahl ®, etc.]   You bled 
and bled.




Scott Hartwich lives in Bellingham, Washington, where he roasts coffee to make ends meet. He received his MFA from the University of Montana in 2003, and has had work published in journals such as Colorado Review, Anemone Sidecar, Bateau, and Prick of the Spindle. He was an original co-editor of the short-lived journal Greatcoat, and plans to launch another quite soon.




Return to July 2013 Edition