News from the Front Line
An update: here the bathrooms are full of light
and when these lights turn off,
night like a husk settles over us, a blanket.
If you’re missing me, don’t.
I am happy here, I am out of the way
(and if I had a heart I would eat it).
Pills bloom in the palm, create in the skull
a new map legend, a magic transistor.
In the throat they are a rush of stone.
No need to come visit, it takes a long time to
get here through the mist:
cresting the hills is a spiritual inversion,
the sky cold handfuls in the mouth like candyfloss.
(I can’t stay, Mother. I can’t
keep all these pearls in the air.
I crunch in the wind.)
An update: here the bathrooms are full of light
and when these lights turn off,
night like a husk settles over us, a blanket.
If you’re missing me, don’t.
I am happy here, I am out of the way
(and if I had a heart I would eat it).
Pills bloom in the palm, create in the skull
a new map legend, a magic transistor.
In the throat they are a rush of stone.
No need to come visit, it takes a long time to
get here through the mist:
cresting the hills is a spiritual inversion,
the sky cold handfuls in the mouth like candyfloss.
(I can’t stay, Mother. I can’t
keep all these pearls in the air.
I crunch in the wind.)