Jeff Downey
I declined firmament
for fair grounds
The rodeo instant
surrounded
Might a blown egg
God itŐs not that hard
to change a tire
No stropping no honing
Penny thinner from the
crank
Along the pines
subjunctively piles
Your neck was a faucet
running three rooms away
My public has lost its
carbonation
Rehearsed to the point
of mumblety-peg
Iron the afterimage
against the grain
Ankle infrared in sumac
Pulse synchs with
longstanding roots
I may still stop by
where you were
But each evaporates
each
The sun a wresting
hammer
So lapse is plot
The cross-winded want
to lie about
Matches you arenŐt so
different from
A run in clothes
riding out
Soon as the thaw, sod
household
When growing up a
notch in vogue
There are such things
as oiled or tan
Bear an instinct I
have floodlit upon
It must have been long
since now
Gnawing hides was
found helped
The going deaf with
altitude
Picture windows for
fallout
Sitting pretty around
the sound
Still you teem with
alit props
What are they now
calling themselves
The pedigree at first
sight wrung
Nothing save cotton
dresses carpet burns
I should talk who
doesnŐt about background
Lashes done up and
recurrent
Compare berth nearly
absent a waiting
The coverlets rove
their climate. Though I keep
putting an appointment off. These
tissues will never carry on. A
nadir hunted down layover. It was
practically arable to replace. The
hatter that looked after soft gold.
Marquees near ingrown. For
you to reach your hand in the tank and pull out. Was control tempering its start.
Because it hurts to
return. An equation that is
satisfies. You are staying but
want to more percussively. Underlying
plumes lift from the leveled. I am
catercorner all bent out of shape.
What fades in piercing eases.
The thought of heaving duty notwithstanding. Poplars lose their likeness to cotton. The undulating margin of error.
So what prevails in
the crook is awe. Acres climax and
stopgap. YouŐre clear yet worn
away. Volume carries itself off in
heaps. The gall of it. I want friction to confiscate. Something nomadic with resonance
quivers. A promotion really
siphoned. The place bows at your
disposal and is even more inured.
Still the downy smell of dissent.
Over here the cave-in is shouting.
Barely a self inflected.