Career, Poetry, Things I Can

14. Things I Can Stomach: 17 Hours

Is it
Honest mistake
or strategic play?
or careful calculus?
or bullseye?

Am I
or pity?
or breath?
or chump? 

Will this
or expose?

Does it welcome
what expels?
Does it expedite

The first page is one
then one
then one
together turning
no second
page, every possible
and not a plot
in sight,
not for 17
at least
when morning
will decide
what I can’t
no matter the torque
my thoughts apply

Here raise
the volume to 10
to 20
to boil
to black pane
and silver flash
boiling up
a roar

the only silence
for miles
this noise

is the clock
drowning in night

This is
the story

1 thought on “14. Things I Can Stomach: 17 Hours”

  1. Ideal by Mei-mei Berssenbrugge
    I did not know beforehand what would count for me as a new color. Its beauty is an analysis
    of things I believe in or experience, but seems to alter events very little. The significance of a bird
    flying out of grapes in a store relates to the beauty of the color of the translucency of grapes.
    There is a space among some objects on a table that reminded her of a person, the way the bird reminded her,
    a sense of the ideal of the space she would be able to see. Beauty can look like this around objects.
    A plastic bag on a bush, moving slightly, makes an alcove, a glove or mist, holding the hill.
    Time can look like this. The plane of yourself separates from the plane of spaces between objects,
    an ordered succession a person apprehends, in order to be reminded.

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