Candle
Ebs Sanders

1. 

Teens are boarding a bus to ride away from art 

First thing I fill my canals with birdsong and Bellamy 

Press a cold hand onto motion’s face 

Stop motion staring and breathing 

The Schuylkill looked like a dirty quarter 

Washing our clothes in the basement 

The computer feeds me breasts like an ass man 

I walked like a scammer and talked like a hacker 

Desperate and down I dematerialized 

Renting a pancake the size of a hot air balloon 

In spite of orthodoxy I could not eat my way out 

Suspended from a trellis of nasturtium seeing street as sky dead of night

Quick, speak crudely to me 

Making a coat from painted horse shirts 

Needle buckling macadam cut in heat 

Horizon we were seeing far 

I walked like a sunspot and talked like a star dying 

I called on the big phone, collect 

A horse trotted out pleading away 

Let’s not speak when books launch themselves off shelves someone built under duress

There wasn’t a directive I could want to receive 

I’d come round the long way to day’s measure changing 

Making a waiting I will 

2. 

In the park a man petitioned 

Calling trees antlers of the earth 

I would never slash the book of love with razors 

When snow drops erase any memory of need 

Fragment collectors shuffle the woodlands eyes kissed by scorned things

It is difficult in the din to hear the ring of a prerecorded bell 

When you tenebrae me I lose all control 

Like a glass whistle or last bath slinking through pipes barnacled in something predates us

Hand of the moon clock going slow 

Finally I could dispose of everything before you