Ene 14, 2017


Feet so calloused they came across as hooves.
Off to extend limbs as dancers do,
Touching only other dancers, grasping at

Our grasp of jointed arcs. Atop baser stages,
Flickers peeked from righteousness we threw
On luckless spittle. Away from the blacker cabinets

And out into the moist coals of traffic,
Our cheeks stuffed, necks and torsos tied to
Cushions with nylon belts, twinned

With approval from the houses. A pig sniffs
Into its share of the dog’s day, but see if we quit
Cooling it with timed whips of water. See

That you press an ad for a hundred and twenty-
Five talents and managers against the bulb,
That we might trace from the inverse a

Demand for parlor excellence, for
Clean-shavers of foreshanks, and so pour these
Artists onto the red of sidestreets,

Naked flanks of country. Matter freed of wind
Soon hoarded and clipped, braced with thin bamboo
Or sheet metal. Such that a summary of color

Follows, with nowhere to stroke but up,
With as much hope in this jar as the room we make
For a child-friendly pair of scissors.

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