Poem by rob mclennan
Photo by Curtis Cronn

 
 
 
Trying to think of the architecture of language instead of the meaning of language
 
      for Terry Ann Carter


    dressed, they carry
    your large body

    off the burning page:
        G.C. Waldrep


1.

Distorted, music. Impassible, swim. An impass. They paddleboard, the ocean. Crushed. Erasure text, beneath the rubble of a promise. What is most full. Burning from your ears. Land. Sentences are bricks. Returned, the order forms.

Delerium. Defend against, a fissure. Drawn, a deeper mouth.

This is how we replicate. Candyfloss, a voting interest, oceans. The wrong ways, tenfold. Up against the discourse. Yes. A protest anthem, names. Still echo, customs. Vagary, in dissolution.  However, having just returned. We drink.

The world full of babies, impossibly suspended.


2.

The right words sentry, work. Dissolute. A bridal path of ones, of twos. We burst into, silent flame. Tropic, moons. A means of monitor, burning rags. Declared, unfit. See, the trees that grow. A breath, your sense of loss. An instrument. Attracted, finally.

A finger mashed, a shudder. Literal, pleasure. Dear you, secret ash.

Audible, cloud. A sainted push, he reached. Scaffolding, a bridge. Secluded. Beige, appliance. What do the shallows, sing. Blue, details. You, a deepest mystery. Thin nickle, moon. Three quarters. The far side, options. True. Crestfallen, bones. To teach oneself to sing.

Tell me, how began. Wireless, memory. Beware the shadow, slips. 



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