Wednesday, May 11, 2011

'She wants to take our cars from out our garages.'

*America stop honking I know what I’m doing*

upon yawning commute for the 9AM—the reluctance
of a realworldolescent—nearly a hundred birds: a species

small and gray, urban, name unknown to knowledge,
swooped about in unison above the still, accepted wait

at light of red: finally

something natural, worthwhile. introducing change
to my mundane: flight school, artwork in the open air.

swift, wheeling maneuvers behind each unidentifiable
and momentary leader, anonymous but for milliseconds:

the decision-maker switches every time direction does—
the useful beauty of anyone initiating a new acrobatic,

no matter how ephemeral.

in the sight of which, overwhelming the well, feeling
lately like I’ve been typing into a typewriter without paper,

never wanted a light to stay red so bad before in all my life.
—from Poemergency Room (Otoliths Books, 2008)

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