Trilobite is an arthropodologist's delight:
many bizarre creatures; no two alike.

four poems

Adam Stutz

Hunger Flowers

these small breaths swim a fleet

slowing to seconds in a prop sky

my rapid over-thinking


flagrant like beat glass

scattered from haste—

a vicious yawn

offer these eyes a heavy bridge

that wanders across lust floating

downstream gluttons

unhinged open collective throats unchecked

hunger flowers

into vapid appetites

plots worn rib-wise

pelt finds a future as grass

traffic in the seeds/notes of swindle

impermanent youth woven into nests

follies  of  a  sweet  sweat  spreads


drop notes turned to bitter incantation

I offer this idle tongue

tiptoe on strings once sharp

now dull stares study tones

in the dalliances of teeth tipping over

dim observant



impolitic rentals to break rhythms

offer sleep still/troubled

by restless turnover that rings like a high-hat

at night

idle chatter

hitting up the holy phone

opening   unruly   lovely


All this heart can offer

is an out-of-tune instrument

atonement tightening

into a tired fossil

The Small Cracks

My skin tags

my compulsions

I practice on my sleeve

a history of worry—

a palette

gathering time

The season’s script

flips on the cusp of clouds gathering

I try to move towards

electric arrival

& review fresh abrasions instead

As the tectonics of daylight

split the small cracks

in a window frame

a spider-web

brings to bear

a missive


in the small plot

of a loose naked breath

frayed threads

roll in the elastic

offers of idleness

damp skin

& songs ringing

w/ the rinse of sex

The room


& births

unanswered questions

Vanishing into


the gems of sparrow



  parades of exasperation

parades of yes/no

nervous murmurs

only breed disputes

but in the darkness

a light shines

where we think

there is nothing to see

Salutations & Slangs

Arrange the tedious machinery

of follows &

shelve vicissitudes as day old discounts

praise doddering

pleasure-seeking habit-forming cold concrete stimulants

Details are scarce despite mapping


pathological grooming

(palliative effects of skin irritation)

Drag slow cuts through the corners of mouths—

the snail mail

of incisions—

bodies are message




salutations & slangs—

never learn nerves must be nursed—


are cruel artists

when it comes

to the canvas of the peel

Qualm talk

twists wounds

so as to slip in

under the guise of compassion

amidst the slur of the daylight


candor is painted

on the sky

shearing consonants

& excising


the lottery


is sunlight mischief

ripening into

inscrutable data:

seek (re)spite


malady in the cadence

of the lungs

but Good lord:

the plague days

are not practical

for an exit

pigeons roosting overhead

know better lines of argument


The day falls apart w/distinction

nervous teeth catch a crack

& slanders tiptoe around

indeterminate punctuation –

Behold the splendor of accidental derision  present in eyes slipping

on the evidence

of raw irritation in this cipher

daily secrets that live in our throats

in bouquets of arrhythmias

this is form:

a series of questions


for quick classification

flattening into hurdles

through this staring contest

through emptiness

through fault

the relics of family

still remain resonant

a howl holds

btwn. traffic breaks

waterworks still




under brick walls

under tired weather

understated measure of invisible collision:

honesty withheld