Monday, July 21, 2008


by lisa pasold after box of sky by A Deutch and Burning by S Chenette

nowhere is a query lingering in the aftermath of that whiskey
the ice dissolved, sludge in the mouth the next morning. the window
a box of sky, the stinking glass on the windowsill, slide of water. why
these cityscapes, abbreviated land, one of us plowing. that corner
or this, sheets untucked, some ring lost, we'll never find it,
the circle never happened, a brazenly transparent memory, our
glass empty, whispering, hangover-like. look how
we've fallen together, melted, ring or not, brokeraged for a fresh bottle.

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