No going back, and yet | no going forward, either, nor | dwelling here in the present, it is | a strange state of affairs

Each touch was a bud, and it flowered | later than he could grasp

Medium fireworks | an aperture | of grass and blood | a ghost | coming through | in a crown | of sparks

And then | large | fireworks

Weighing the clouds | After the detonation | dazed | angels in tracksuits | wandering

My fingers | float loose | from my hands | Boats | cut loose | from their moorings

45 rpm | on the | gramophone | Chi-Lites / or maybe | Zepp | when the tanks | roll in

Medium fireworks | an aperture | of soil and grass | leaf litter | a ghost | grasps the lips | parts them | bone | head | heavy like a | thinker | pushes | up | peeps | through | baby | buffalo

Dazed | angels in swimsuits | wandering | confused | one | bleeds from the mouth

When the tanks | roll in | cereal packet | blown open | cornflakes | scattered on the | linoleum

Boats | cut loose | the river’s | broad | slow | back | carries the children | downstream | Hazy | crusade

After the detonation | devils in | a daze | stagger | across the field | deaf and | disorientated

Waits | by the side of the river

Flowers come | slowly | floating | downstream

Slopped | in blood | heavier | than she | expected | through the aperture | of bone and pearl | of salt and grease | her ghost | coming through

Medium

fireworks


from the series hypergrammar (open-ended, 2012–present)

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