FOUR BLUE STARS

A painted shadow does
not change

A legion of secrets

to equivocate
to avoid

the mistakes of closure

War nods off
to sleep but keeps one
eye always open

The weather’s gentle
glossolalia

Paper over shoulder reads meet

triplets with identical boob-jobs!

It was a sub par morning

*****

We have forgone the rectangle
of tamed light for a structure that is itself
rhythm, hymn-like

voices overlaid
in a dizzying charge

I got lonely

thinking about how the galaxies are
so big they could run

into each other and not
even touch

Then I got self-interrogatory

with caustic shifts
sticky fingers

and disappearing blips, afraid
the dead will see

I’m not very brave
or worse, that

I am

It was said someone was
hired to insure discontinuity

*****

Anselm’s unlikeliness
contusion & fog
shot through with soft sun

I once bought a girl
four blue stars behind
her right ear

She bought me five
cases of cheap beer

Is it redundant to admit
the perpetual, uneven

flux of being knocks
me the fuck out?

*****

Harmony says he found a piece
of some guy’s shoulder in a pillowcase

Recurrence of the specific
is abominable

The dancer confesses her precognition
of Albania, but feels she

must delete it

This was and is
how I communicate
with myself

conjuring awe on the outskirt
of war