the sound and buzz of people around you, chatter rippling in the concert venue: all metal and stairs and popcorn and beer.

is the same as

when you’re in a white bright eyeglasses shop, facing a corner on your left hand side and you turn to the right and the flash of lenses in the sun hits your eyes makes you blink for a second and their flash-burn is on the backs of your eyelids and you blink again and everything is thinner

the feeling is that you are empty and small, being carved clean by something bigger than you.


Highline highwrite

everyone around us judging judging judging
turning their sides and their mouths forming ohs
chitter of cell phone conversations,
gentle foreign langue drifting up up up from a call home and
the whirr of air conditioners and
clack-slap-smick of shoes slapping traps on the wood walk.

the flick of their heads then eyes then brains:
you draw them in sharp-like, blue.
necks snap and I just wonder if it’ll ever calm down,
if you’ll stop.

then warm press of lips and cheek
tastes of salt and bug spray and flowers,
cattails thick wildflower blooded mauve
rasp behind us, side by side on the bench.

you use that false high voice when marketing light-up shoes to strangers
but can you even see what you’re doing
when you’re running like that?

when the whole world collapses and chooses you as center of mass
and a bloodflood rush (it all comes to you)
and you,
you are the funnel, the universal bottom.
energy pours in, anxious and ruby, passing through you to somewhere:
but you’re not sure where, are you?