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.
