CHRIS GORDON ant ant ant ant ant five
January 24, 2012 § 1 Comment
SHE ROUSES BRIEFLY AND SAYS DRAGONFLY
:
:
distance acquiesces to heat you tell the fly he’s ephemeral
:
the vents are being replaced I touch your drink by mistake
:
where the lines end and the absence begins an architecture or so
:
abruptness of seed taking orders from the smaller machines
:
I get on top of you they start playing a commercial
:
an eye tuned to the scrape of a chair an ambulance
:
milt of friction the ring where the ring keeps the light from her skin
:
pea on the trajectory of a scratch I will be a Ghost Dance
:
all along the tracks splintered shapes swelling in the rain
:
we talk about our childhood TV shows as if they were festivals
:
moon a tear made in the sky with a fingernail don’t answer the door
:
in the dream I was Danae waiting for a drip from the ceiling
:
that dark thing in the green of your eye next to the window that’s me
:
tensile strength of thistle the outcome of serotonin and loophole
:
where she points at the red flower I don’t see anything
:
we both wind up in the fruit aisle one of the lights above blinks out
:
tell me what we’ll do on a bench by the river when no one’s around
:
soaking in a jar for three days the beans are pink and ready to split
:
aren’t all prophesies self-fulfilling sugar written in Spanish
:
the oven opens to the smell of sweet potatoes your panties
:
her ringed fingers twitching she rouses briefly and says dragonfly
:
an act of transcription closes the flower travel a violence
:
we exhaust the five hundred gimmicks like metal eucalyptus leaves
:
my face a trapdoor spider candy foil floats along the dark train floor
:
Lyric Intervention painted over All Day I Dream About Sex
:
all the slurring and none of the puncture no I said sects
:
weeds as tall as roses what I threw out the window when we fought
:
between the cars of the train her body turns from yellow to blue
:
a plum seed flushed down the toilet they found the arctic’s melted
:
if this were an espionage film we’d all be dead
:
:
ant5 
The combinations of seemingly unrelated events are very reminiscent of the poetry of Arthur Sze. Check him out! Good stuff.