Potluck

 

T H I S    W E E K

The Theorist by Bo Fisher

 

Five

testament

still in the
skeleton
building stage
framework, support, shell -
any arbitrary definition
will do
I do
work slow
and will flesh IT out later
IT being whatever
I claim as testament

I've dragged
this work
between dimensions
shouldered it
from one life to the next
pillowed my head
with it
sleeping beneath stars
of other galaxies
sat staring at it, perplexed,
for eons

then,
as always, I build -
sacred geometry guiding
my hand as I insert
another rib
or fix another joint
just as ancient
intuition will when
time comes to apply
the first layers
of clay

its surface etched
with
my interpretations -
to be
made permanent by
heat of
distant suns

Four


112514

neutrino
passes
through
always

forward from
one star
system
to

another

one particular
domino
starting a wave

 

 

 

120214

lips sewn into silence 
with copper thread
drawn from the
lamp lady's 
hem

railcars
at sidings
wait again for dark service
first to rise are first
to ride

then will go
associates to a cause
then those who dare 
raise voices

two second warnings are
sufficient according 
to internal documentation

explanations?
no need
threats will be put down

clear evidence
not required 
for evidence of such
is too great a burden
when sanctioned to 
quell uprisings

the sound of the
valve being opened
can be heard 
just behind
blinding 
clouds
rolling across trenches
crossing thresholds
 

Three

111614

still closing eyes
in places
of gathering

isolating
voices
in crowded
spaces

how many
at this point
does not matter

it has yet
to find me

 

 

 

71014

sent into
this
nest of silence
a
chest of voices
under my care
I fear
unprepared
to relinquish
the only
key
 

Two

62814

here
we have
guilt
waiting
in a most
comfortable
chair
grin disappearing
a slow moving
product of memorizing
a growing list
of annoyances

One


Corvus

looking south
wishing on this night
to be the hand
raising sail
to astral wind

to lay on an ether deck
and think of nothing

rising only should
nothing emerge
a crow
and I
carrion