UNEMPLOYABLE

 

Light bathed in sweat

 

cut cancel or cure? Each rich conspiracy sits in meltwater.

 

And then when the noise rises up to greet us it’s already all over.

 

waiting for a new poetry to arrive an opportune moment

 

to commence yoga. Lonely blood vessels make shift ornery drift shoot

 

bloody ankle fuser a.k.a The Distance Man.

             

                 Cop three lines on a stolen photograph.

Clash of poor recordings dialogue manhandled Dictaphone clicking feedback

              arclight  fathom        dust quest distilled each one on the shelf

              quiet

gift consumption consumed after they died of consumption

    pleurisy a gift gas re-emitted after the emittance

stolen chomping movements food about the mouth falling

         gross like goblets cone beacons fresh bacon beckons

willing it so      

willing.              It so.

 

And we want them to turn around at the end and say,

 

“No, that wasn’t it at all.”

 

After all.