Looming

Such a street like twigs

Or hatches to frenzy

The four pointed wig so heavily
Given straight time

By the bridge watchers.
No here. No there. No translocation

Or personality, please.

It’s been lingering so long

One side out of the sludge

In the fenced-in mud puddle

The storm drain leaves

For mosquito populations

The tug of light and the slipping

Shadow, ridges of the knot languish

In the shadows on the wall inside

My mind. Noose breezes, I call them.

The rain in her

elephant heat, sticking

And smell, internal combustion

Sneaking out of my heart

To stain my shirt and all

The surrounding landscape.

Night like cataracts blooming

On my iris. I can’t see the twitching

Anymore, I write to you this

Broken bone, this pointless light switch

I keep flipping up and down

Unbelieving

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