holy rattlesnakes


at night while

the monster slept

in the master room

and the unsuspecting cells

of the trailer walls

absorbed the threats

and fury and small

brave moments of

undisciplined joy

that encapsulate a day,

in whispers we

princes of the sacred

society of brotherly love

weaved a webbed dome

of invisible light

over our sleeping spots

to protect us

from the night,

and in our underpants

knelt down

on crooked bones

to pray our

crooked prayers

for all half-orphans

and horse-bitten souls,

thankful in our

crooked way

for the drunken angels

watching over us.


poem in which a day arrives without its color


diego rivera has finally

finished dreaming.

has left us, and

taken the new

morning with him,

and the neighborhood birds

without blame or offense,

and strung their

dark trees

with families

of faceless


singing clocks.


Andrew Michael Roberts is the author of something has to happen next, which was awarded the Iowa Poetry Prize, and two chapbooks: Dear Wild Abandon, and Give Up. He is the recipient of a national chapbook fellowship from the Poetry Society of America and a distinguished teaching award from the University of Massachusetts Amherst. A cyclist and runner, he lives in Portland, Oregon with his fiance Sarah. You can follow Andrew at animalseason.tumblr.com.