THE DAY RATE
didn’t relieve us, possibly
along a notch in a hot-pink stick
folded in hot batter the other week.
lighter by exhaust and prevented stain.
we can grow our company. Cupboards
with nuts and dates, radix angelicae
and weakened water, shampoo
yolk, sinless blanching toothpaste: to be ready
always good enough, clean for quickening.
use to be religious. But the round head…
began to bloom, and my feet in shoes,
blood thinning up the elevator shaft
further work for the taxable heart I arranged
my hall monitor. Sighted.
a topography of this new gut, which one
and taps as panels for waiting echo:
over the tape, tugs the ring-pulls on each corner,
solaces a disruptive kid in carbonated
never known to pound at home in the kitchen.
We took a
little hope from this good conduct;
in isolation the sound muffled is total alien.
change ends that hope ends of a different life.
managed to get this far without water,
vehicle slows and stops in the middle of nowhere
overblown like cartoon puffs, macadam broken.
rushing wind the silence is like nothing:
all it is not quiet, the blades and beads
vocally from the ground and you all continue.
everything you make by that continuing
register and sit back down, and the air will fall on me.
call in the evac unit. Transitions from promise
fiduciary agreements are never easy, but we try
things simple, drawbridge over
Dismal Swamp guarded by experts
flushing out insurgency. My arm buzzes
intruder creeps into the citadel,
half-awake in recovery and light as plastic.
I will be
able to run again, a literary agent
the future pattern when it drops again;
is wakeful, not quiet, the front again calm
will be some days until I can believe
I read without feeling singularly human.