Poetry from Rodney Gardner


Duplication through your submission

Numbers tallied through a gem between her legs

Fruition may come through your probing

Perverted penetration and perforation

Subverted and diverted

You, the present resident is bent

Tortured and incorrect

Greetings to you

Abundant redundant fuck

Today is your moment

The armless plastic monarch

Shares her gift with you

A dummy goddess in true beauty

We tolerate no disrespect

Monorchid plastic outside

The soft interior bestows transfiguration

Your essence drains through your toes

New version conclusive

No longer elusive




Green Machine

The machine has died

In its wake, a dirge plays on

The sound is deafening

Anguish of two thousand souls

Soon to join the ether

You clutched my hand

Holding tighter than I could remember

And I wondered in death

If I would still know your smile

The first time I heard that laugh

“These truly are the best of times.” I said

We walked further toward the center

The end all


A breeze swept through

With it the smell of dead plant matter and chemicals

Withering trees outside concluding as we were

Placing the masks over their faces

Indistinguishable from the next

Like they’ve always wanted

Rodney Gardner was born in California in 1975. At 30 he was ripped away from the west coast to finally become a real adult somewhere in Texas. He enjoys those things enigmatic and dark, seeking catharsis through the creation of music and poetry.