Ethel

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Ethel

Ethel

Father Tectonic

by
Robert Frede Kenter
Robert Frede Kenter is a widely published poet, fiction writer, and visual artist, living with ME/FM, who creates experimental fractured and dystopian work on themes from family to eco-disaster, nightmares, illness, and social history. Robert’s work has been published and exhibited for over 3 decades. A 3-time Pushcart nominee, BOTN nom, recent shortlisted poet in Dark Winter Lit Contest, a shortlisted poet for the CBC Poetry Contest, and a multiple grant recipient, Robert studied performance and art at Antioch College and studied and worked in experimental theatre in NYC including Wooster Group and Talking Band. A book designer and EIC/publisher of Ice Floe Press (www.icefloepress.net), which publishes online series and creates print books by international poets and visual artists, Robert is involved in numerous ongoing collaborative explorations. Recently, visual poetry and poems have appeared in the anthologiesSpeaking in Tongues (Steel Incisors, 2023 UK), *Interpoem #1 & 2* (Canada), *The Book of Penteract* (Penteract Press), *Glisk and Glimmer* (Sidhe Press, Berlin), *Reformatting the Pain Scale* (Olney Books). A creative essay is forthcoming from ABR; poems of late have appeared in/or are forthcoming from Cable Street (USA), *Harpy Hybrid* (in collaboration with Vikki C.), *Storms Journal* (Ireland), *Otoliths* (Australia), *Visual Verse* (Berlin), *Watch Your He*ad (Canada), *Wasteland Review* (NYC), *Fevers Of* (USA)*The Winged Moon* (Netherlands), Anthropocene (UK) and more. Robert’s book works include the hybrids, *Audacity of Form (Ice Floe Press)* and *EDEN (Floodlight Ed).*

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from Father Tectonic

Brothers

In the house – silence
We find our voices
Tiny imperceptible
nuances – minor notes

Snow falls oblong
in the monologue streets
across the road – Paradise
is outside our house

A fortress of evergreen trees, bolted
windows with bars – percussive
punches –
always away, always a way

We pound out melodies
de-tune amplified
guitars – ride our shotguns in
euphoria’s rush (what
does that mean – brother?)

Your voice raw – insistent
silver moonlight – then taut pizzicato
We are broken apart in an Eden of
wounds – singing
playing through winter’s frozen wings