“I Write to Run”

14 Jan

“I Write to Run”

Let’s write for five hundred mirrors

to run faster than reflection

calling canaries to funerals

rain to the steaming geysers

to see ghosts at last through slick asphalt

an alligator forest

unwell in the box spring

maybe happiness will be whittling

up late staring at the fireplace

bone broth the color of human bones

a bandaged stranger

offers the horns of a boot

a way to fly to the roof of a high rise

a high tide of fish bones

the woman weeps

in shuttered rooms

it’s too late

she’s in your skin

birch bark through which the woman spoke in creaking

we met in the midnight velvet

through your skinny fingers

the cold be banished

from our igloo warmth

lonely mice in cabbage cottages

the knifed sheets

the cheetah chances

the cancellation of cougars

sucked hot through the interior leather

of masks, helmets, midnight indiscretions

zephyrs pant the gabled widow.

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