Potential Titles: Bruce Boston

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In a land of ice and mirth and explicit promise - Bruce Boston "Ajax Redux"

I don't hunger for your glittering glory - Bruce Boston "Ajax Redux"

Trading gold for flesh, lives for legends - Bruce Boston "Ajax Redux"

Your exotic rampage through the annals of myth - Bruce Boston "Ajax Redux"

Backing away in a trapped circle - Bruce Boston "Alien Quarry"

The lightning and thunder rush of his thoughts - Bruce Boston "Alien Quarry"

Woven from cloth whole and tattered - Bruce Boston "All the Starry Audience"

Shattered forms scattered across the landscape - Bruce Boston "Beyond the Clouds of Paradise"

Beneath the wry shade of the architrave - Bruce Boston "The Canticles of Rage"

Herein lies the hard pentagonal truth - Bruce Boston "The Canticles of Rage"

Appraise the aggravated fortune of the stranded millions - Bruce Boston "The Canticles of Rage"

Can still evoke the canticles of rage - Bruce Boston "The Canticles of Rage"

With little hope of reaching our destinations - Bruce Boston "Chess People"

Sleep safe in the shade of civilization - Bruce Boston "Children of the Mutant Rain Forest"

A shadow dream of emerald possession - Bruce Boston "Children of the Mutant Rain Forest"

A vacuum that devours all it surveys - Bruce Boston "Curse of the Void's Husband"

Streets and buildings in constant flux - Bruce Boston "Dream People"

Directions to our shifting destinations - Bruce Boston "Dream People"

Remain lost between event horizons - Bruce Boston "Dream People"

Our own altered histories and future visions - Bruce Boston "Dream People"

Infinite in its potential and terrifying in its command - Bruce Boston "Futurity Wears the Head"

And threatens you with dark possibility - Bruce Boston "Futurity Wears the Head"

Down a hall where your portrait becomes ancestral - Bruce Boston "Futurity Wears the Head"

With an accelerating appetite that can devour generations - Bruce Boston "Futurity Wears the Head"

A dynamic rendition of the hospscotched [sic] past - Bruce Boston "Futurity Wears the Head"

Roam the empty highways in search of life - Bruce Boston "Ghost People"

Migrate through the walls of deserted homes - Bruce Boston "Ghost People"

Become manifest in abandoned bedrooms or kitchens - Bruce Boston "Ghost People"

Stealing into ruin as the centuries unraveled - Bruce Boston "Ghost People"

Through gray streets beneath an ashen sky - Bruce Boston "Gray People"

Wearing gray coats and monochromatic expressions - Bruce Boston "Gray People"

Gray and threadbare from the passage of many feet - Bruce Boston "Gray People"

Pallid dawns and pale sunsets enclosing our gray inclinations - Bruce Boston "Gray People"

Have nailed and sealed the universe complete - Bruce Boston "The Last Alchemist"

Down to the last stray molecule and rebel atom - Bruce Boston "The Last Alchemist"

Turning baser metals to golden illumination - Bruce Boston "The Last Alchemist"

The last alchemist will retreat to a birdsong wood - Bruce Boston "The Last Alchemist"

A rushing stream clean as a burning flame - Bruce Boston "The Last Alchemist"

The bruised & bloodied vocabularies of the urban night - Bruce Boston "The Lesions of Genetic Sin"

Up through the poles of a dead telegraphy - Bruce Boston "The Lesions of Genetic Sin"

Impaled on the pinnacles of a brassy skyscape - Bruce Boston "The Lesions of Genetic Sin"

Give her back her time-thorned flesh - Bruce Boston "The Lesions of Genetic Sin"

Rendered in disparate jigsaw flashes - Bruce Boston "The Lesions of Genetic Sin"

Aware that the entire cosmos may be watching - Bruce Boston "The Lesions of Genetic Sin"

The majestic blooming of the century plant - Bruce Boston "A Life in the Day Of"

Assassinates the art of nuclear mystics - Bruce Boston "A Life in the Day Of"

Drink peppermint tea with the ghost of morning - Bruce Boston "A Life in the Day Of"

So we could inhabit a circle of power - Bruce Boston "Marble People"

Far above the antics of such childlike games - Bruce Boston "Marble People"

Hidden in the branching veins of earthbound stone - Bruce Boston "Marble People"

A release from light years passed - Bruce Boston "The Music of Deep Spacers"

A vast and haunting refrain that echoes the depths of space - Bruce Boston "The Music of Deep Spacers"

Temporary lodgings beneath the static of the stars - Bruce Boston "The Music of Deep Spacers"

Float to the moon in origami rockets - Bruce Boston "Origami Rockets"

Astronauts from a childhood fantasy - Bruce Boston "Origami Rockets"

Up from their craters and their moon caves - Bruce Boston "Origami Rockets"

Just the right sort to carry our dreams - Bruce Boston "Origami Rockets"

The poisonous elements in our own composition - Bruce Boston "Parchment People"

A recurring nightmare about being trapped in a Mason jar - Bruce Boston "Signs You Could Be a Clone"

A clock that makes a different noise every hour - Bruce Boston "Surreal Domestic"

Engines of desire roaming the lost highways - Bruce Boston "Surreal Fortune"

The inversion fields of an autodidactic summer - Bruce Boston "Surreal Fortune"

Urges the palomino up a burning slope - Bruce Boston "Surreal Fortune"

Moon frenzied by outlaw pollen - Bruce Boston "Surreal Fortune"

Echo in the corridors of skyscraper dreams - Bruce Boston "Surreal Fortune"

Fireworks in fields of feldspar and lace - Bruce Boston "Surreal Fortune"

The sun shot brilliance of a polished knife - Bruce Boston "Surreal Fortune"

The astronomer on the far side of the moon - Bruce Boston "Surreal Fortune"

The borders of peripheral vision - Bruce Boston "Surreal Fortune"

Archipelago of dream plastics already ancient - Bruce Boston "Surreal Fortune"

A reality framed by random association - Bruce Boston "Surreal People"

Metaphoric explosion and grotesque hyperbole - Bruce Boston "Surreal People"

Startling revelations lost in the moment - Bruce Boston "Surreal People"

Liquid ticking in a petrified railway station - Bruce Boston "Surreal People"

Gods and goddesses of geometric exactitude - Bruce Boston "Surreal People"

While burning herbivores strolled across a lean horizon - Bruce Boston "Surreal People"

The substance of the world began to sing - Bruce Boston "When Clock Is Egg"

Distilled in the hard flesh of the moment - Bruce Boston "When Clock Is Egg"

Tying down the wind with rope or chain or tackle - Bruce Boston "Wind People"

Hydrogen bubbles exploding into light and energy - Bruce Boston "The Would-Be Gods of Sonofusion"

We have tapped the heart of the sun - Bruce Boston "The Would-Be Gods of Sonofusion"

Embrace the stubborn dream of perpetual energy - Bruce Boston "The Would-Be Gods of Sonofusion"


Snippets by Bruce Boston & Robert Frazier in collaboration.



Poet's Wikipedia page.


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