from by Ben Meyerson

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You came from the hills last night and told me you’d been born –
smiles tattered, torn, skin lathered, worn,
breath pumped in steam from bodies that you hadn’t time to mourn.

You came from the hills last night with birds still in your eyes –
your vine-layered thighs, your migrant cries,
you carved yourself from moss to travel iridescent skies.

You have been battered by the hoarfrost,
cajoled to foray into rain,
you have been battered into your love,
distended by the vacant plains.

Your heart will molt its coats by mourning,
a voiceless autumn in your ear;
these hooded cities been contorting
round the contours of your fears –
I’m crying:
you won’t ever come back.

You came from the hills with olive leaves caught on your clothes –
fed fresh from snows, aflood with crows,
you paced the foothills endlessly, mapped winter as it rose.

You came from the hills last night and painted what you saw:
the land rubbed raw, its listless jaws –
you laid your body in its ruts and melted with the thaw.


from Euhemerism EP, released June 29, 2016
Guitar: Kevin Cicuta, Ben Meyerson
Vocals: Ben Meyerson
Harmonica: Ben Meyerson



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Ben Meyerson Toronto, Ontario

Ben Meyerson is a poet and musician who currently resides in Toronto, Canada. You can find more of his work on his website, which he treats as a hub for his creative projects so that words and music can come together more effectively. He can be contacted at He'd love to hear from you. ... more

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