About the Poems
by Brian Foley
I live in a small attic apartment with no overhead lighting. We have lamps. It's always dark. You can’t see the stains on your shirt, but you can see the shadows on the wall. This is a poem about living exhaustedly in those shadows.
"The Unknown Language"
Sometimes I feel like the Neighbor to the place I occupy rather than the inhabitant. This attempts at knowing the Neighbor, or what feels like the Neighbor, through a mystification of heritage.
My Dad never let me see the money. I thought we were rich.
Knucklebones is an ancient game of dice similar to Jacks and originally played with a sheep’s knuckle. I often have dreams where my hands become as useless as a pair of empty gloves.
"Beneath A Limestone"
With bugs and worms , this is my version of the party poem.