1
held against the mouth
sentenced cleaved to silence, what is around me
is all this is: wire. quartet of birds. aqueduct
as arrest and close range tap of rain on face
rippling in the eye foreclosed and reasoned is
this image's return -- what is it like to live
far away from home and not hear me say
regret as study of attitude? News carried
bombardment of inner cities. We were hesitant
to leave place and borrowed skin instead,
if not borrowed then grasped for, what is the answer? if coordinates lie, what are
we trying to discover.
2
held against the temple
not a barrel of a gun, but similarly, a chamber if not
a mouth breathing in sulfur. the day has spun
out of, and in between clipped reminders of
the calendar:
today's broken notes on the tablatures are
the daily. Do groceries. Pick the freshest fruit,
take the sour out of the scale. Gut the fish
and not word it so over the kitchen counter, I will
watch behind a clutter of earthenware and furniture. Might topple the glass
once and catch your attention. I do not deny your
effect on my soul.
3
today's forecast of rain is body staying in.
the children are seized by terror as scattered displays of lightning paint their faces
petrified with a lack of hue -- listen to the
intermittent, coarse static of the television
when it happens, your face ripe for arrest.
there is nothing to do in a home
holding its breath when you walk,
do not leave just yet. the water is rising.
it tells you to stay in. triple your presence
across the dining, rain as if out of the shower
barely drying yourself, leave water
i will not drink, only test swimmingly
a dream out of sleep and so real
a twitch of fish out of ocean.
4
outside you are no longer than the transit
of birds seeking canopies. Wind disrupts
the steady arm of cables. Slosh of water
from an oncoming vehicle as if beside the
sea crashing into me are waves,
What need is there when your mouth houses
water, your ******* warmth? Contrast as
habit of alternatives. In verbatim, this is how it
sounded from you, "We are very young.
Remember me this way."
Now i wish voices could be bodies. The next irreconcilable face as hearth.
Fingers as assuage, distance as dearth,
grasp if not borrow, translatable to
signal, my body heeding, fraught by taciturnity through the caught wind
through the furniture, once your body being groped for like any
other sundrenched day.
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 6:31 AM UTC
1
held against the mouth
sentenced cleaved to silence, what is around me
is all this is: wire. quartet of birds. aqueduct
as arrest and close range tap of rain on face
rippling in the eye foreclosed and reasoned is
this image's return -- what is it like to live
far away from home and not hear me say
regret as study of attitude? News carried
bombardment of inner cities. We were hesitant
to leave place and borrowed skin instead,
if not borrowed then grasped for, what is the answer? if coordinates lie, what are
we trying to discover.
2
held against the temple
not a barrel of a gun, but similarly, a chamber if not
a mouth breathing in sulfur. the day has spun
out of, and in between clipped reminders of
the calendar:
today's broken notes on the tablatures are
the daily. Do groceries. Pick the freshest fruit,
take the sour out of the scale. Gut the fish
and not word it so over the kitchen counter, I will
watch behind a clutter of earthenware and furniture. Might topple the glass
once and catch your attention. I do not deny your
effect on my soul.
3
today's forecast of rain is body staying in.
the children are seized by terror as scattered displays of lightning paint their faces
petrified with a lack of hue -- listen to the
intermittent, coarse static of the television
when it happens, your face ripe for arrest.
there is nothing to do in a home
holding its breath when you walk,
do not leave just yet. the water is rising.
it tells you to stay in. triple your presence
across the dining, rain as if out of the shower
barely drying yourself, leave water
i will not drink, only test swimmingly
a dream out of sleep and so real
a twitch of fish out of ocean.
4
outside you are no longer than the transit
of birds seeking canopies. Wind disrupts
the steady arm of cables. Slosh of water
from an oncoming vehicle as if beside the
sea crashing into me are waves,
What need is there when your mouth houses
water, your ******* warmth? Contrast as
habit of alternatives. In verbatim, this is how it
sounded from you, "We are very young.
Remember me this way."
Now i wish voices could be bodies. The next irreconcilable face as hearth.
Fingers as assuage, distance as dearth,
grasp if not borrow, translatable to
signal, my body heeding, fraught by taciturnity through the caught wind
through the furniture, once your body being groped for like any
other sundrenched day.
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