Solid Quarter

Visit Trembling Pillow Press for poetry books, broadsides, chapbooks, and Solid Quarter Magazine.

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Tuesday, October 27, 2020

Severed of Timing

 





severed of hope is there's more of you
severed of delusion, & i am [un]-ground-
i'd rather make art between us than other shapes of control

madness called down so fine, the line trembles
to be quantum fixt is a code of reunions, i architect
into the code with a precision of science to sound
and what you hashtag makes it real, for here we live 
inside a doming, a light broken as horizons
broken of bird song

god is a woman asleep in the bathtub, dreaming 
do we have to know what we are creating

what's the poem about. there's no
poem here. look at the outline 
of make and tell me, you can't hear 
how reality is snapping 

we became beasted, two sets of eyes 
for every seeing, two sets of mind
so one stays afloat

one of us shores

equipped of light and browsing 
pages of directions
what's an echo in an isolated chamber
but retreaded as indentations 
deep enough to hold memory 

if all love is the same 
than all death must be the same

could you be simply here

you can become so untethere
we chimed in, a charm of not 
as if not loving me could ever be 
as dangerous as if you did

and then what we don't know we don't know yet
half as deadly as what we think we know 
that is actually unknowable

i am certainly dead & what shall be
made of it, if we no longer fear time 

what makes it matter

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