Author: G H

mount the entire range from border to border, at the peak, ask who was born first, the wind holds a long tune

some day as an envelope, weak weld on fold where lick lets a drag into the mouth,

trust mail to sew a nation’s cliffs together, that’s the add

the son awakes all the other 364 with a shovel in the sky, spreading chew across the mute country, give the work

centuries of stuff knock about the truck bed: gavel, bow saw, pike, spine glue, wax seal, thumbprints, awl, a slip and fall of humans

as ever, prod, peel and break the coil broiling the trunk one holds up to the sun as unclaimed proof

brittle makes for rich notes swirling in the soup, bubbles snapping out of fish heads staring from the other world

hay is for healthy mouth movement, teeth flash from under skinned cushions, from a silent distance, everything talks

organs in the mail, currency in the water main, policies in tree rings

take my hand with you over the border

at the end of this hill awaits a sun sweating in the gas flares peerlessly centered for yours

pleasure is a burning car, blinding gas from broiling upholstery smearing odometer and memory of miles