Rob Wilson Engle


by reaching your prying hand 

out then back towards your body 

the heart dismantles itself no less

to please the skin, bristling

with a membership to your own life’s

most private spaces, majesty

and is there a word for

uncomfortable euphoria

it leaves your bedroom a mess

and the rest of your life 

in perfect order, 

first, model your joy after marriage

next, divorce your partner and

flea the song, long and low,

emanating from the dark trees 

the birds alight in perfect asymmetry

and aren’t we all just having fun 

here with our sternums partly-exposed

to the sun, they say what doesn’t kill you

make you longer and when the shadows

rattle against the west side of the house

you hide in bed like a hieroglyphic

until the panic passes you find your way 

to your backyard at dawn

discover an heirloom, buried.

Rob Wilson Engle is Pittsburgh native, poet, and personal trainer currently residing in Brooklyn, New York. His creative work has appeared in DIAGRAM, Reality Beach, Profane, Phantom and elsewhere.