Drew Gardner
THE LOOP
the ripples in the distant water move
a seeming energy as overcast as anesthesia
taxi lights through constant steam
my bombings didn't pay for those perceptionsthat's my other self who's jaws
would open wider if there were
space for them, while I hold up
like a plant
by using waterwhat drips from the roof is a corollary
to that insistence, a smoke stack's
point of islet cells
changing sugar into action-the choke-collar makes a subtle little sound
the drooling rotweiler like a fact misunderstoodby consensus, at a party
so horrible I couldn't wait to leave
turned suddenly fantastic
when another batch of people showedit is not a part of measuring
the proper scale
of any deal in life
floats on the surface of exuberanceI don't know if the check will bounce
the pile of plastic forks and box of light bulbsthrow it back
for the unhatched seasons
with the frequency of hope
in vibrating air