Standing on the edge of this fence,
I wonder if you are drunk or dead,
Or maybe you remember the time
When we were eight and the moving
Van still too far for grief,
You brought your boomerang, orange
And striped, and we cried when it
Flew imperfect, past railing to sky,
To clump of hedge there below.
But we were eight, I went [...]
skin cells and
the
dust
and every year
I shed a layer
to join the air
Picture yourself falling.
You are a figure drawn on a white sheet of paper. In each frame, your appendages flail in another awkward direction. Your head, which is a circle, lolls to and fro. A series of vertical lines extend from your body, as if to signify your downward descent. Frightening, yes, [...]
I wasn’t always here
From where I came, that silent country
Spoke by thought
We conversed by proximity
Dialogued with scent
And here, everything translates through
Mouth, an imperfect organ, that
Speaks only in terms of
Hunger
After the cusp and the toppling off, the regime lies upended. Ruins further ruined by decades of infighting, there is a sense of desolation that can be heard in the distant howls: we imagine knotted trees and a hundred cowled monkeys, but the perpetrators remain too far, too unseen. But wait, here [...]
Cars passed along the far edge of the horizon, and they made the slow sough of whiskey ambering into glass.
From the asthenic calm that bore the morning, the mechanic’s struggles were made clear to me. The coil, he asked for the coil. The hammer. The brass plates and the loops of silver. On and on, every raised fist a penultimate to victory. With nightfall, he lay against the wall [...]
Wasted time spoke
All is well, all is well
Had I been a poet than an engineer
You might have understood,
And it said
All I want to do is fight
All I want to do is get my bright
Not yet spring and the clubs are filled
with fat cubs lusting through winter, the longing thrust
and everywhere the golden calf of desire
rises up but I am drunk, once more,
smiling like a fool and so it is that
everything is make believe — laughter, the life, the disease.
Somehow I am not convinced,
a girl rests her head on [...]