Friday, March 25, 2016

HER

Some nights—you'll try
the same experiment
over again, only

this time, you'll
swear it isn't

you—but the
streets
and sidewalks

that surge and
ripple under-
neath you,

causing you
to feel
either—complete-

ly dizzy,
or not quite
finished feeling it yet;

as you lumber
to heave

wet air
up
towards whatever stars

your mind likes
to suppose
are still

there, and you
cleave the dormant
and unconscious

neighbor-
hoods some more—oscillating
either

closer to
or further from

your position
of equilibrium—
which isn't

really a place, so much
as a very particular
person.

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