Tagged: story

Yell Fuck at Canoe Rental

geese scream lyrics
over a banjo being played
inside a trailer full
of life-jackets

where the fuck
have I landed?
the sound comes out
in ligaments

the geese are so angry
they lose themselves
white fluff in disarray
off them, honking

wildly. I wonder if
they could see the sound
if they would
be so angry

on top of sound is placed
their own, a bigger sound
their voices
press shut their eyes

when one feather goes, so
does its opposite, keeping
the enraged birds
in balance

there are many feathers
on the ground now – I imagine
them cleaned and colored
for crafts

children attaching them
to their shoes, banjo music
lifting them into the sky
where light is adjacent colors

the music plays
on speaker – it will never stop
but eventually
the geese do

they scream their necks
into collapse, together
they leave to accept handouts
in the parking lot, or

whatever it is they’re used to doing
the light squirms in
the heat. the light
is the same light as always

we have had it this whole time
it has been everything since
and will be
everything else

it extends beyond the prism
of our atmosphere. it comes from
a fucking star – how can there
be hate?

it is only the brain making
of light what it will
the brain which cannot understand
the feeling of light on its skin

Pressing Medicine

what’s the opposite
of a steel trap? a sieve

a mind which filters
– strains to filter –

wrings, dilutes

I do one, maybe
two things wrong &

I can’t function – my
stomach is the rag

my ribs are the glass jar
inside awash with medicine

how much does it take
to twist like that?

what do you do with
the rest?

black in the dark, black
red in the light

it is left
in the margin, discarded

white space that
oblierates, white winter

that proliferates
how can it be so many

when it is also each one?