Matthew Johnstone
$5
A line does not change, stripped out net
for grate,
there is no country shapes fahrenheit
hollow for, shell, in the wound, is,
irrational,
witnesses color moved by another color,
lives like place
is,
that heat beaded the accent off, this
opposites, we
are poor objects, names out front.
Some clipped by certain pay cloud kept
their line for
and to begin others, that years before
were a series of disorientations, my
father is hint for years,
deafening, putting iron down the land
mapper, that
without considering drunks in the hot
ocean.
That a seductive light appears
to feature one appears too.
Hours form an intentional place which an
expansive keeping
takes, the arrangement each made each
killer of veins.
Once fine through but through fragmentary,
them
converge onto augment, branded, wet
callus, stay I noise.
Movement is necessarily described as folds
are, the profanity unmuted, peels atop everything, is,
is kiln,
that there is a wound does not move.
published in Ottawa by above/ground press
December 2017
a/g subscribers receive a complimentary copy
Matthew Johnstone is author of the collection Let’s be close Rope to mast you, Old light (Blue & Yellow Dog, 2010), and the chapbooks o n e (Inpatient Press, 2015), Note on Tundra (DoubleCross Press, 2016), and Eater, of mouths (Vegetarian Alcoholic Press, 2017). He co-edits 'Pider (pidermag.com) and hosts the E t A l. Poetry Readings, both of Nashville, Tennessee.
To order, send cheques (add $1 for postage; outside Canada, add $2) to: rob mclennan, 2423 Alta Vista Drive, Ottawa ON K1H 7M9 or paypal at www.robmclennan.blogspot.com
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