OverPoetry

still swinging the cat by the tail everyday /
turning on the gas and walking to the store /
eating QEW slush as dessert /
mounting the wall street bull for a final thrust /
rubbing the bellies of yellow jackets in a therapy moment /
easing into the niagara for a quick shower /
sleeping in a pothole, soothing the tremble of the road as a sedative /
collecting syringes as political donations /
using dynamite fuze as laces for the morning sprint /
into the city’s heart /
writing in industrial warning symbols /
to communicate directly to the audience’s bilious torso /
drawing targets in crayon for greater representation /
swinging up to the jaw to dislodge the last talking teeth

time to snuff the candle out /
on each other’s chests /
at the spot we believe the heart lives /
pounding on the ribb’d door /
still waiting for a shout /

drop the curtain like a toy guillotine /
on the frequented scene /
it doesn’t take much weight /
to cleave colour from form /
just a plastic seam where the molds met /
a millimetre of rough blade /
scraping through painted fancies and tinted light /

do we get a prize on the final day? /
a take home bag for a deserved end? /
our pupils turn white /
the sun was here for what seemed a day only /

it’s not dark /
it’s not black /
it’s not dimmed /
it’s the back of our heads staring forward /
props for some future lesson /
sliced out of the ground

there are the dead /
over there, shifting around the bus shelter /
their schedule keeps getting struck /

our vehicles are large /
with filtered heat and dialed lighting /
drive /
past /
try to look/not look /

we pretend to talk /
some motion to make time our own, separate /
no registered accelerant /
yet not stopping for thrumps under the wheels /

at the stop, they may recognize an eye or two /
if dwelling long enough /

one day we will stall /
struggling to open the hood /
hearing the rustle behind us /

the bus shelter is set alight each night /
recovering by morning /
clean glass for our viewing concern /

we keep our routes /
stopping for no thing /
listening for the rattle underneath

not today, expiring /
the grey vapour popping /
out of a children’s book /
the only one we ever truly read /

another night to pretend perishing /
then the lighter eyelids of an unsolicited morning /
sound, too /
hum of the house running away /
finch shouting finch /

okay, I’ll stay /
push the world off the curb again /
trying to prepare its ankles /
for the big leap

living inside the drum /
means silence is never unnerving /
the ceiling is skin twitching /

we don’t have to breathe /
to make it vibrate /
those points are brought down from elsewhere /

oh a dulled bloom of light /
spreading over the head above /
(we strolled past ears decades ago) /

tremors are their own wind /
pushing hair away from your face /

open mouths thrumming /
those fleshy holes emptied /
shaped for some absent sign

thaw out that line /
that hits them every time /
dust off its unexpected twist /
of human limbs protesting /
their own existence /
slice and drip /
personable lubricant /
from a fleshy joint /
that often animates curb-level causes /
its articulation seizes predictably /
without the well paying oiled job /
lying in the pan each night /
anything will freeze left on the page /
found a foot under the city christmas tree /
never got past the festive red tape /
so much was already frozen /
before winter arrived /
that familiar community statement /
half-thought still hanging /
in the colourless air /
insulting spring

after the night rain /
the ice begins to melt in thin sunshine /
at a low angle like a warmed chisel /
prying under the morning’s surface /
notice rays already wrapping around the hand /
penetrating the veins, making them translucent /
with dark blue green blood /

some part of the body ends each sunday

I’ve walked like it snows /
an indistinct accumulation /
disappearing each year /
then pools spread indiscriminately /
across cities and woods /
that read no footprints /
on their surface /
just a detail of sky /
flowing past above necks and heads

gold can be eaten /
line the stomach with /
layers of gild /
brilliant gut, lead the way prosperous /

it’s the teeth that betray us /
fangs behind the smile /
a bite could be a song /
pressed directly into flesh /

everyone hides from the /
ice cream truck now /
winter is summer, freezing living pipes /
the heart cracks open /
always an empty organ by design / \

children line up /
against the wall
for their final year portraits /
trying to cover the holes /
already forming /
on their nameplates

sometimes, an empty cup /
lip stain heralding yesterday is here /
read vertically in the morning /
making new space between so and so /
the word drops /
enjoying its fall /
write at 90° in the afternoon /
cracking all the same necks /
new light for the vertebrae /
leaning west for a view /
speak under water in the evening /
see the shape of said escaping /
swimming up to burst a bright world

is what is something else? /
sunrise /
let it be /
be nothing before /
spread til all snaps /
counting stops /
one is gone /
every where disappears too /
a body indistinct /
once called such /
and the mind is red /
form lost from space /
unshaping the bind /
speak, inside or out, /
to place the planet again