from AFTER ECHO
2.
​
I
place
the carapace
next to the live
version of the thing
that left its skin behind
We flutter when lighght
then ask forgiveness
for the mask
tape informs
a room
that can
contain all sayings
when I lift the window, all the outside rushes
lean again
in—to touch
the wall of some former you to touch its post
date and shipping
One structure wills
its disappearance in time then reappears in other
places people mind
Their tracks simple
molds
what it is to
recognize
the images
that pass
before them
in succession
What truth in train
of thought and rain
​
What train of distinct whistle being
carried away
note by longing note by longing no
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the verb to pill
versus the object
swallowed—one is
our way forward
in this world. The other
if I was to count you
two times
among the leaves and lampposts
if I was to stammer
my calling of you
out into a song
and wait for it to return
The rasterized image contains its deconstructed form,
a hollow tube coursing sound through one body
out into this thinning air
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How magic is performed for an audience
but practiced alone so many times
it becomes mundane
And I swallow
your name before I act—a cat
in my throat
making words deform
What is
becomes
smaller then
dissolvible
in nearly
any solution
​
when one key
is depressed the others sound alarmed
and the swatch of light that follows this depression
will dampen the edges of the horizon and all the debt
will cry as it’s erased – what real fear crushes: the cell and sublime
​
infinite stages between
their terms
dry tears on the dollar
dead present, depressed
dead president
return to ISSUE ONE