lonely survivor /
eating glitter /
out of scattered handbags /
turning over rocks /
looking for electricity /
what was a private night /
is now every distant thing /
sweating into the ear /
though the candle bends /
towards the open door /
your mother missed the planet /
she won’t be there /
to tell you all this is yours /
breathing in the smoke /
rather than singing aloud /
the whole cake is a slice /
wedging the night door open
ignorance is the new black /
worn proudly at all occasions /
bedazzler aiming glints /
at our throats /
if you can’t win the argument /
twist the key in the bulldozer /
foreheads sink softly into /
the Hudson shore /
a country doesn’t know its people /
pours plastic soldiers in the stead /
to replace pillars on the highest buildings /
fresh plastic has a perfect complexion /
smiling melted into place /
I recall dressing a deer /
when I was younger /
strung up in the garage /
white swirls of fat /
under peeled skin /
head tilted upwards /
imploring its god perhaps /
that was the most reduced animal I have seen /
until now /
hung up by our own fist /
skinned early at each rally /
draining even whiter /
make it new never /
letting death be boring /
the next species /
crawls around our shadow /
ignoring the capital /
being brushed away
the roads are cracking /
breaking with a sharp snap /
like styrofoam /
the school buses are devoured /
by widening pits /
the holes are healthy /
growing greater every day /
here come the pliable crowds /
taking selfies with the yawning holes /
the dark craters are really tending upwards /
tomorrow, the holes will pull closer to one another /
until there is only one hole /
covering each country /
no man to man the borders /
citizens blinking at the bottom /
of lightlessness /
the holes cease at the shores /
too many humans can swim, unfortunately /
from the ISS /
the earth is now black and blue and settled /
the shouts in the holes /
only a descending murmur /
quietening each day
I am the son of none /
grave landscape shape by /
motherboards, hard drives and silken soot /
a dull christmas every day /
don’t miss my heart /
or other misc organs /
ballooning more each day /
floating in the sharp blue ozone /
above colourful territorial flags /
directing the parade route to boxcar barracks /
in alternating shades of red and green /
to match the single-issued t-shirts /
and towering promotional posters /
I thought I found a god /
at a picnic table /
the one that originally formed /
all this questionable matter /
then receded /
back for closing night ceremonies /
and finally, a name tag /
to place the face in a /
sea of old parts /
my head is elsewhere /
my liver is in the bin /
holding the other trash down /
we are new everyday /
leaving a long line of bodies /
wrapped in yesterday’s fumes
count our holes /
seven at last inventory /
want another on the birthday? /
one more way to drain the world /
not the big one /
that one won’t go away today /
but soon enough /
the smaller one /
reinforcing its borders daily /
glitter and police tape marking /
trees, property lines and morning address /
give more holes to those in need /
the light and colour /
should leave for everyone equally /
less for all /
pulling the day down /
through the knots /
in the floor boards
death always, everywhere /
christmas toys, lean new buildings /
pour over coffee with milk alternative /
300 thread counted sheets /
sharp colours on a child’s helmet /
refined print on a privacy agreement /
flickering streetlights /
reinforced glass on the toll booth /
dreamless sleep under an electric blanket /
radiating constellations on the ceiling /
compass needle digging into the map /
directions for another earth /
might turn the day /
death, your smile is on every greeting card /
tucked into the fold /
broadening as the crease weakens with each display and remember /
your dress is neatly tailored /
revealing the pinched borders /
of our nations /
fumbling under your skirt /
death, be that first sip of water /
cracking the lips /
indistinguishable from the last cool /
evaporating drops of rain /
we lie under
bait the hook with something that looks like them /
and flashes in the long dark /
like another eye sharing the little light /
other air awaits /
hueless except for those increasing dangerous days /
the first time there’s a song there /
prepare for slivers in the lungs /
feel that space arranged, pressing in time /
no floating particles to plot space /
you may not be thankful in your lifetime /
it might take a few unrelated generations /
to appreciate walking over every little thing
leave life alone /
let it twist blindly in the culvert /
grab its own way out /
of that steel vein, if ever /
never having children is a loss /
for the plastics industry /
lope to the edge of the falls /
and pronounce “enough” clearly /
all roads lead to roam /
free of generational street names /
celebrating there is no one (1) left /
except everyone else /
trust me, I stare at the sun /
tanning retinas /
primping for the day /
the parade dances off the cliff
between the dream and the doze /
spruce beetles chatter into /
the beams overhead /
it’s not exactly an evoked place /
evoking a peculiar intonation of time /
but item circled in the abstract catalogue /
dropping on the doorstep /
assuming christmas even in july /
the melt from march isn’t even a memory /
slippers sleepwalk through the intersection /
it’s as if warmth is all we have ever known /
not a particularly complicated notion /
but enough to damn us all /
for refusing to move forward and backward /
at the same time /
parking at the start and end of the street simultaneously /
almost always on schedule regardless of the day’s distance /
snow is how we should see /
every air, all at once /
acting is over /
the play is not repeated /
one time only always /
time unannounced /
tearing up the aisle carpet /
scraping the glue away /
from the winter blank below /
the cast freezes /
knowing the next line is new
history is not taught /
to the people it happens to /
something else is seen at the time /
an actual spleen, muscular organ /
tumbling down the street /
even without a back wind /
it rolls over glass pieces /
and abandoned strollers /
write a song backwards /
that’s a real education /
focus on the tightening boxes in the cabinet /
how an abstract becomes /
a dark, rifled hole /
no map, just volume expanding /
in the radicals’ dry shower centred in the street /
imagine the others wealth naked /
more stretched mouth and teeth /
than flagging genitals around the banquet /
aliens to our sun /
place that child down on the curb /
time for the rally /
aim the bus over the cliff /
if the few can count on you /
a grand canyon for party policy /
they refuse to be buried /
waking from nothingness each morning /
claiming the country’s shores over again /
books get smaller over time /
small enough to blow away /
with the bicentennial candles /
satisfied to be told to hold /
the fireworks in your mouth /