Your mind ratchets like a sprocket
changing gears, ripping seams,
suddenly your mind sees with different ears
Maybe your body too,
feels it – the snap of sinews,
the stretch of musculature,
your chest when my head burrows, neatly into tendon and courage, tucked into your lungs, and the space between your ribcage amd your heart – cells like anything else, atoms like anything else, raging like anything else – a marching band like anything else, like everything else is only a slave to this wizard – this heart creature, swollen and incorrigible
My string of dandelion vertebrae corrode into honey and jam, marmalade words ringed like opals in your eyes
i supple, watering can, grow mountains/ i shed tectonic plates/ i am walking rose bush, fluttered silk/ i am musculature on fire/ i am waterboned and rivergasping
Thank you for this poem of a day, and the way it leaned on me
Hot blooded orchestra feet and a temperament for meat/ rich, waddling, grass-leaved eyes
The answer is I figured out how to unstopper the valve in my head
We live in the literary dreaming
They shouted nameless hunger from the streets. I saw the march pummeling barrel-boned feet onto pavement dashed with archaic names – Pennsylvania Avenue, caked in poetic-narrative. We shouted thunder and hurricane from our tiny voice boxes. We swam in circumstance, pomp, and pop culture. We swelled with pageantry, with the radiance of a crown not blatantly visible. We braced our ribcages for the spectacle. We paced through a parade, through titles and embossed penmanship. We wandered through the television, through the wash of blitz and brawn. We were no longer just a city, but a shout still ringing clear. We were no longer just a people, but a shout still ringing clear.
The beasts with fumbled roars, with aimless oars cackling through the Chesapeake. Peering, pining, purpling and vision-less. Curdled, crowning, coupled with charisma and cliche. Here we go, leaving the milk out. Here we are, drinking the sour cream.