Bruce Covey



Reveal: Seasons


Spring: Challenge the biologists of the new millennium

Summer: To the magical desert of Death Valley

Fall: It's a little blurry in places but most of it's okay

Winter: Why not spend the night?




Reveal: Shapes


Point: Massage chairs; mortgages; Los Angeles colocation

Segment: I’m mailing my vote from anywhere to anyone

Line: Are you a native speaker of Estonian or Lithuanian?

Circle: Introducing a very special being straight from the stars

Ellipse: A ray of light passing through a focus will pass through the other

Triangle: What is the best film you’ve seen lately? Which theater has the worst seats?

Square: Four ships today to offer and unveil facets

Rectangle: The spiral is not actually tangent at these points

Rhombus: If you would like to try and discover them

Pentagon: The nerve center for command and control is virtually a city within itself

Hexagon: Wee puns of mass distraction will run about the show

Dodecahedron: Appears as part of the staircase being ascended by lizards




Reveal: Quarks


Up: Report railroad emergencies

Down: You have again risen and given your all

Strange: Your body is creating and killing

Charmed: After trying on a pair of go-go boots

Bottom: Music spans the spectrum; pool tables!

Top: When only the hottest will do, rouse






In which every fine angle is reciprocated,

Every divergence is unaccounted


You’ve coined this original

Segment & try to keep it straight

Try to keep it unlike anything else

As you slide the knife through

Halving all the cherries


& as the goo hits & trickles

Down your chin like your victims’ blood,

& as you feel the little sugar cubes

Slicing your tongue, the warm crust

Juxtaposed with flat ice cream


The re-action once again drives the outcome,

You're on the Merit Parkway now,

Thinking about getting there, about seeing

Someone else, flying a tiger with them

Gathering luck from the cumulus


Taking apart the river into

Its miniature momentums & the rocks

You seek & the fish you seek at the end

Of your skinny line, grabbing at them all,

Are like fruit—apples now—


Shining & red & able to predict the future

From your carefully ever-calculated m-motions




Print, Press


The difference between circling endlessly round

& being on the inside


Painted over with something not quite opaque

Needling grooves to sing a song


& unzip to reveal a plenty of data

Difficult to defrost & boil


In the next rectangular a handful

Of bluets & dandelions emerge

Waving their little vacuums to suck in the clouds


While meandering yonder, the cold shorts

Are filled with silk

Embroidered in semaphore

To tell me

Not to sail over the side


Dragons are there


Fates have offered them my shoes