Leveler Poetry Journal
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After Zach Knapp’s Moon in the Desert

A milk drip

glows behind

Devil’s Backbone,

the Colorado rocks

hushed by the tourniquet feathers

of the blunt Douglas fir.

Out of her silence

grows the outline of a bosom;

a cat pounce moon crafted

from Indian paintbrush shapes,

my eyes following the grease track


through the



The cliffs

dangle seeds on a rope.

Stones rise from red to dark stains,

cross-hatched like mortar-fire,

jumbled into fragments

that spilled out

while the rocks

fell asleep.

Samuel Piccone