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 perceptions

that'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 water

what 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 misunderstood

by consensus, at a party
so horrible I couldn't wait to leave
turned suddenly fantastic
when another batch of people showed

it is not a part of measuring
the proper scale
of any deal in life
floats on the surface of exuberance

I don't know if the check will bounce
the pile of plastic forks and box of light bulbs

throw it back
for the unhatched seasons
with the frequency of hope
in vibrating air