right now escapes itself at the glass transition, Eric Hohenstein

Rides 2, 60X72, John Brosio


right now escapes itself at the glass transition

well that’s one way to go
in a mistake of phases

through the trees run like an old window
that myth or another

cantabile exhalation over your sour-skinned
shoulder mouth agape breath toneless

against a riverside shhhh scan for pursuit a fever
that can’t be vented the biting flies arch over

only to curl within
like fingers of an upraised fist

throat the air again
hot honey a cluster of grapes eats your mouth

what can it say? no answer
hey, my heart

pump you bastard the blood starts back
at points established there’s no doubt

no river of it anymore not a trickle
rio roosevelt laughs

oxygen tells hydrogen someday I dub his red bones
“doubt” in honor of its real casting off

[jumping jacks pomegranates don’t forget only a jerk gets his
fishes from a farm

not too many brazil nuts there bacon-shunner
the selenium rattles your innards your nails your hairline

I don’t know]
aren’t we all the song of songs?

polyphony reverses until only a note
pans its own echo for harmony

none found the jungle fills its belly
spills clear water in black’s clothing

it heaves
isn’t it time

for some bug to crawl
its blue vibration up your veins?

Eric Hohenstein

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