was foraging outside a patch of burning birds,
papering and evaporated blue over a thin field
and caught myself inside a nest like an eroded
or the strutted gap between vent and vented,
and humming or I was the wing and circle saw
full of hungry throats or bound to them and
or trees pierced into a scatter of trajectory, or cars
torched and chiming, and/or you were there:
carrier cloud, you empty along the bottled
you the jealousy harp, you the scenting dog,
you the lakeward, the forget.
you the clapper of each bell.
published in Octopus 10
How cool to see my poem show up here, on one of my favorite places to find interesting images. Keep up the good work!
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