It's hell to transfer these things to the blog, but here goes:
a neighborhood of death
birds dead on branches dead
mice at the sharp ends of cats
dead frogs sunk in mud
streets should be red with it
sidewalks red with it
the air a red chemical bath
dead things thought of us
held us in their dark imaginations
that remain unimaginable
we try in a 3D movie way
sitting up wearing colored glasses
light at different speeds
coming toward us
the frog end of winged death
lights nerves up
like a Chicago street reaching
from the Gold Coast out to Iowa
nerves strung from brain to toe
salt tumbling across membranes
salts lit by a star
flooding the window
plants and the go board
on the recovered chest
two glasses of dark wine breathing
Comments