The Whole World’s a Stage

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Twelve Silhouettes Waiting in Space

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Street mattresses follow pedestrians
on the far side of the lime green trees

The film dreams magic nurses
outfitted blue wading in the rainwater

Such humane desires
(the animal felt forbidden)

In the windows in the moonlit
obsessive horse

Sex bodies saved themselves for the happiest hands,
metaphors moved vehicles through towns in the middle of forests rigorously recorded,

Hypnotic swells of the Pacific becoming (that animal)
Call it Love, call it a plethora in the dark, distant alit mountain…

From The Pulchritudinous Review No.1
Ed:  Renee Zepeda

Chris Weige / 07 / Austin / TX

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Written by Reckon

June 27, 2007 at 2:21 pm

Posted in Poetry

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