Tryst, 2014


to sorrow about you; or is it around you?

do you know what they call a pause

in the middle of a line, think of ides

about twenty knives and youre close already.

to emblazon everything in the room.

seven cans worth’a gold paint and some tape rolls.

my wrist is aching for slits in the window

multiply that by sunlight

i catch myself humming after you.

you, the shark jaw study case, my ever

after o and the x to my corner slot

my forever cats game my forever draw,

bob ross landscape attention

and fire exit kind of permanence.

if it wasn’t for big screens and spell check

would we even be in here together

if it werent

for a while of willowing

of spring waiting and glimmer

angling the exactness of a mote

and very hungry for another tune

to catch myself humming, driving late.