Features | two untitled poems

Literary Supplement

i saw

you on

whatstoday whatstoday whatstoday sunday

close screens

streaming corners

bathed in light light light and like an ambush there you

were, humming

something.

somethingsomber somethingsamba somethingsomnambule something blue

and i couldn’t

for my life

make out a word.

Ghostly voices are spun in the threads
of this hammock. Sitting back with a handle and our hands on our stomachs, we recount
the days of lofty words and minor scandals,
books that followed, braying, into bed.

Mosquitoes, now as then, buzz and saturate
the breeze already thick with dead white men
echoing back at us. One such insect mounts
my unprotected leg, licks; I am bitten –
my blood submits, ceases to coagulate.

Perhaps it’s been infected with my old ideals,
preserved in minute nerves and bites
that never heal: too much laid bare,
I’ve sat up nights, I’ve had my fill
of shallow breaths from deep air.


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