Poise
1|
The hole of my back hurts when I wake up
and hear everything.
Insects blitz my head
of hair and I think, them.
We are going to the same house.
I introduce myself in the foyer, being little
soft with my voice and cupping it
like crepes.
A carafe of water on the table
is there. Is it.
They are around me in delicate shoes,
doing to the street this walk they wheeze
through, God am I
getting away.
2|
Circa, I let the dog off laying on some grass
beside the basketball courts. The fence is
wood painted white, reaching my heart, whose
people to talk to get very few. Think of it, my white
dog is splotched. She goes to the water
and wants it and the fountain is to be twisted.
Then it flops forth, I don't know why this
in particular way. I touch my back ; to it
is the pain I wear shoes for, it is being around.
3|
The air is tight with smells
and I see a couture of birds
in their seats. They not only look
as though they are coming they cling
together I imagine to be in the same
breath.
What I wouldn't say to anyone is that
Deguy is a French poet who flips between
languages during an explanation. It is all very
recent, seeing as summer is petalling orange
and purple out, cars returning, I run to the edge
of the park to see.
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