Two Poems by Gregory McGreevey






cicada’s hymn



Your name has become muscle memory for me. The atavistic tendencies of time travel. Sweet billowing hills laying rampant like a red carpet. A fiefdom of marginalized tumors, swollen rivers, and cauliflower ears. Gently spoken vertigo, an ally of sensory vistas.

Black tar is redundant, white guilt is redundant, pharaohs only speak of architectural intestines, of facetious apologies nestled among the emerald sarcophagi. Bow to splendid tones, stop fantasy, remit pleasantry.

Heart rests in fragile atmospheres, builds fatal reckonings from the sting of being born.

Gregory McGreevey lives and write poetry in Baltimore, Maryland. His work has previously been featured in West Trade Review, The Finger Literary Journal, and Straylight Literary Magazine.

Image by Rushen – {unidentified} cicada (emerging) – Khao Yai National Park, CC BY-SA 2.0,

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