James Schiller

i think it is accurate that 
sound is measured in volume

wish. the richter scale
gibbers a little.

dream. chronic scepters
splay the damp
damp foreground.

it’s true, greed.

more, a moat
toward groping.

gut-lunged. grievish.

near-sighted ditches
tussel harp sounds
in parentheses.

if the ear trips
amidst this monster

bridges. fists.

the property of my arms
floppy with it.

uterus verses.

dozened blood.

homonym pollen
we can’t imagine
is accidental:

heard. herd.

James Schiller is the editor of SWINE, an online magazine of contemporary poetry. His poems have been published in elimae, LEVELER, Knock Magazine, and others. He blogs at

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