To Be Held By the Horns Now

It matters who sits next to whom,

and what I think of the arrangement in the dark

as arrangements get obscured and imagination comes down

to make up for weak sense data.

There’s an awkward push, I can tell you’re trying,

using your hands that way—

without the mindless automaticity of one

not deliberating basic motion.

Something in your face is askew,

breath collapses body,

a superficial sink into unruliness, and settling feels to be

a lopsided deal.

“The Now is just this: to be no more

just when it is.”


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s