Author: G H

perhaps a new river found in the living room can foam many mouths staking blocks of wilderness at the edge of the tiles where temperature falls on its own schedule

organs fail on paper, valves too loose for pressure pointed from every face lifting and falling along unevened sidewalk, a snowflake of a stain reaching across the chest’s logo

still counting nearlys, the margin is cluttered, solidi stacked against the door, rare when one is not one, kissing every mouth on the escalator

humble creep, masterful crash, pipe leaks classified, consider the capable wasp, mindly gap, onward to shelf, so into transit, weather me, treat upper crust, cast handshakes aside, gall for the dowry, ingredients listed in declining weight

much too static, all things cling and drip from the ceiling, barely a word among them though the plate is full

a small silver of light warms the stew pot, limbs and necks counting their laps until the vault is lifted, sending our steam skyward

they say words betwixt shuffle and sleeve, hold your child firmly lest a line catch its ear, trundling the thing towards the pool

one sheet of paper per day to coat the belly of red river, stop up swallowing backward from the great bellow below

not to pull out nails from diogenes’s hand, or the second, third, fourth ones along the sidewalk, sleeping in jars to predict the weather, marry them all

there is pain in the photograph, as defined by magnetic outline, waiting for a special word, trained for distance