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of port & hues – dylan rice-leary

of port & hues

of port & hues is the first collection of poems by dylan rice-leary.

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falling rise, the spring of fall-

falling rise, the spring of fall-
the fruit it ripes to picking’s pluck
& all autumnal harvest hands
uplift to greet you in your seasons.

& in the turning of the leaf &
fore the void of winter’s chill,
we fill our barrels, jams to can.
bounties in our sunken pantries,
meat is salted in its larder
& all that’s jerked and jellied is for keeping.

& in our sundry stores – all goods as these
are suched for morrow’s making,
a laying on all tables
to feast our dark nights thru.

in the nightsuit stiched

in the darkness we can
see to never touch
again the sun,
& yet it always
comes to always come.

in the nightsuit stiched
& thimble-threaded unto blood,
we can seem to never get the skin
& yet it always comes
to come when cloth undone.

in the godhead we who
seek to speak
but not today in tongues,
always it comes to us again
in whispered drum.

& in the artless wail
of brokenhearts
in deeds ill-done,
there is a sun,
there is a skin,
there is a drum,
that’s yet to come.


the taste is next to nothing

the taste is next to nothing
you’ve yet held on tongue.

we made out on helium.

to register for the exchange
brandished w/ receipt-

thesun&sky take all kinds of balloons.


for martyred offerings

lark darts hitheree & to
thru sunlipped yards &
airspace indefinite
to the chagrin of fallen seeds
everywhere- for we are beyond
well zoned in this & more.

to wing bygone periphery
in lights of spring &
nary a hawking eye under
which to tremble
on this low noon-

the cooing dove,
the beating thrush,
(atwitter by the caw
of local murders & the
vimming of the jay all
sing of that which
wiggles neath the earth.

as such the grub
& so the worm
& ergo even mole-
all liminal in june.
for these unlikely magi
three blindwisemen
bear no myrrh,
& fixed on stars
for martyred offerings
subsumed as gift to birth.

tendrils to the trellace

train yr tendrils to the trellace,
morningglory – all over yrself
(fingers in nooks – runners laying cop to croo
in climbing
walls & clinging at the wire~

& mid the purplethick petal lip&bulbing-
reaching gloriana greets the daylord
(hello, sunshine.

twelve to one

twelve to one-

you are&i believe
it teaming & pull the sun.
(as i swim

you are the ram & i- porpoise,
a schooling of neptuna.

i believe&you are
eponymously striking me
(day-thru & night-thru,
for we are softly steaming.

& to yr hoofing blaze & the arcing skyward pathings,
i will hold you in the seas when you com-
-et to my oceans-or splash-
down in these harbors, i
always – mission of apollo,
will catch you on night’s reentry.

you&i are believe
it born of depth & fire,
for midst our rose-red fingers,
tomorrow you will rise from me again~

twelve to one.

ope, fledge – for

ope, fledge – for
you are over down, now
proud-feathered tail & pin.

perched nestly:
& from there to ground
is a lifetime.

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