One of the more interesting and off-beat (in the best sense) poets I went to college with is Bucky Rea. He wrote the kind of poems I admired — sometimes funny, always thoughtful, their unpretentious depth a pleasure. He is also responsible for one of my very favorite lines of poetry of all time. We were assigned in one of our workshops to write a poem based on a fairy tale, and his, written about “The Three Little Pigs,” contained this sentence I will never forget: “It is the season of teeth and judgment.”

Bucky Rea is a Founding Penguin at Invisible Lines and the Events Coordinator for the Houston Poetry Fest.  

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Ekphrases

Every poem is ekphrastic, conversing
with God’s art of sea tides,
sunsets,
flowers, emotions, or the evil
he puts in our hearts.

Every song is ekphrastic, celebrating
the artifice of sex,
the sculpture of seduction,
the architecture of orgasm,
the tie-dyed skies in the morning after the storm, or
the wars God uses to paint the canvas of earth
with nations, glory, and mud.

Every painting is ekphrastic, capturing
the improvisation of time as
it consumes
my sunlight,
the symphony of creaks
and pops in my aging knees,
and the ballet of violence
these laugh lines
carve on my face.