2 poems by Clem Flowers

Punk Noir Magazine


It was a flood

Of dreams– omens

Held to the jugular


Nothing- just deer fat

& cotton wadding

In the lean

As the jubilee

Of black sugarcane

Reclaims the valley

Under a swimming glaze

Of ruby petals

& the thick melodies

Of the blue cardinals

Bay of Burnt Brass

True loves always burn each other in effigy at least that’s what you told me as the sky opened up into foams of rattlesnake hearts and or it’s old prescription bottles while the mountain sort of sang an old gospel tune and the peaches fell into the river and the water is all turning black certain the bricks will soon be swallowed by Hellfire but every time the Thunder cracks like a slick glass in an old sink I smile like a jackass eating Briars and think of all the silk in the sky I used to hone in on while drinking downtown like a ticker-tape champion guzzling champagne

Clem Flowers (They/ Them) is a soft spoken southern transplant living in spitting distance of some mountains in Utah. Maker of a fine omelet, but scrambled egg game needs some fine tuning. Nb & bi, they live in a cozy apartment with their wonderful wife & sweet calico kitty. They can be found on Twitter at @hand_springs777