The House of The Hanged Man- Dawn Mueller


The House of the Hanged Man


The squeaky floorboards
had nothing more to say, and
neither did the doors,


but the hall clock just
wouldn’t stop tsk-tsk-tsking
about it


It was like every other
day before-
except that he wasn’t.


Morning just kept coming
wiping its yellow hands 
all over the world,


as if it were appropriate
to go around painting sepulchers
in such bold color.

Constellate Literary Journal

About the contributor

Related Articles

Stephen Schwei. Poetry

Stephen Schwei is a Houston poet with Wisconsin roots, published in Wax Poetry & Art, Beneath the Rainbow, Hidden Constellation, Borfski Press, and the New Reader Magazine.

James Fountain- New Poetry

Empty Highway Home The road is clear, but for the weather lashing down liquid intermittently, my wipers doing overtime at midnight, after a John Mayall gig in Stoke,...

Mary Wight- New Poetry

SIGHTSEEING Bellies sweet with prawns and Guinness, they dawdled back along the strand needing nothing more. A sea trout, eyes gone, body gleaming still, lay as if waiting for a...

More Like This

John Huey- Flight

Flight I have been rowed across the Volga and seen the sun breach the waters. Gone in the mist in Delhi late at...

Dear Sisters and Other Poems- Bev Smith

dear sisters our tree’s stretch of skyward is slowing as is their leaf fall, wrap of blankets, and hopeful reach again for spring breathless trips on summer stumbles of things forgotten upon faces fanned by noon to...

Hurly-Burly – Kathleen Holliday

A haunting poem recalling the shared delight of childhood by Kathleen Holliday

5 Poems from Peter Rimmer

PECULIAR CHILD I was a peculiar child In love with magic and wonder In a world awash with both A mirror was a...

El Medol, Tarragona

Clare Morris regularly collaborates with the abstract artist, Nigel Bird