Ghosts of oil | smeared on the silver | ground | of a basement garage || a map of | excess | leakage | and flaws || Lovers | trying to | form | each other || Edges | blur || The connection of | potential fire | holds them but | not everyone, not all of the time, may | bear | hazards in mind

They drove out and sunlight flooded the car as they came above-ground || She put the music on and their memory | turned into a road | and the road | didn’t turn into a | memory…

 


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