UNLOCKED: Spell of Rejuvenation
goodbye horses on
the radio
dark afternoon
sun, high
altitude wind
zapping
between windows in
an arc
electronic buzz
oozing
in the hot light,
thick tar
vomiting itself
across
the carpet like a
boa snake
skin burbling in the
breeze
shroud lifting
from my skull
a place to hide
outside of time
a save point
before a boss fight
the crackle of
button combos
cats writhing in
light swatches
hairs mixing into
mottled doldrums
a fuzz-tundra
calling for bodies
to lay in the
quiet with him. i thought
i was out of the
slipstream
i was beyond
contact
by hook-shots of
solid objects
to sit now upon a
teetering pedestal
marble body
clutched in dew
after a winter in
the river
(still frozen in
the spring)
with a sunken
trunk of notebooks
or have i always
been climbing
the darkness and
pressure
and wet a fog just
now rolling past
as my body festers
in a half-moon chair
i feel a growth
consume my collapsing misery
crisp buds burst
from my pores and
quiver, feel for
the first time
the fecund energy
of something finally decomposed
Ian Martin is young, dumb,
and empty. Ian's work has appeared recently in Train, Half a Grapefruit,
where is the river, Bad Nudes, Plenitude Magazine, and Pretty
Owl Poetry. Ian has published 4 chapbooks, most recently PLACES TO HIDE (Coven Editions, 2018)
and YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE TO KEEP THIS UP
FOREVER (AngelHousePress, 2018). When not writing, Ian develops small games
and complains online. [http://ian-martin.net]
No comments:
Post a Comment