Exuberant, tingly deleting.
File cabinets in dumpsters.
Desk on curb.
Sky riddled with paper birds:
nonsequential orphaned pages.
Sunspots, bleeding paint.
I peel off a tattoo like a sticker,
slap it on a wall that wobbles,
spraying matrix numbers,
the air Vaseline,
rainbow slickage trailing talon flicks
by spiraling witnesses
dry-shifting air channels,
drifting corners behind clouds–
everything ephemeral as
inside a whirlwind.
A bliss of yanked roots and
Terrible Destroyer offering
the choice only of suicide or fear–
but luck somewhere in the deck,
so every swagger is ignorant
of whether or not it is blessed,
with whole communities gathering
to try to guess,
bound by faith in hope;
others bound for security;
many bound to share whatever’s here;
still more, the precious few,
hoarding whatever space it takes
to be alone.