you could play
chess with the
shadier elements
of her story
you call white, &
she the black pieces
pulled up from streets
unforeseen
or you could both play
with
thimbles
you could use the thimbles
with
blasts beneath them
in the four-moon-one-tree night
one bird,
whose reflection's a branch
one branch,
whose mirror's a bird
one gale,
whose glass is a branch
a branch
whose secret double's
the palm of your hand—
listen—
picking antique out of silver
she's lost her tongue, she's bonfire of
psychoanalysis
medicine keeps her secret (double's
the silver feather in her wing)
sleep rewrites her million (of doll-ars,
of wings), she hoots
"inability abuses permanence"
out of her left-side mouth &
"slumber ENDANGERS timetables"
out of her right-hand mouth
bonfire of
psychoanalysis,
what hummingbird do you
hold in your beak?
below you sleep a thousand stallions
the hummingbird's shadow falls upon
Jeff Harrison has publications from Writers Forum, MAG Press, Persistencia Press, White Sky Books, and Furniture Press. He has e-books from BlazeVOX, xPress(ed), Argotist Ebooks, and Chalk Editions. His poetry has appeared in An Introduction to the Prose Poem (Firewheel Editions), The Hay(na)ku Anthology Vol. II (Meritage Press), The Chained Hay(na)ku Project (Meritage Press), Sentence: a Journal of Prose Poetics, Otoliths, Xerography, Moria, Calibanonline, Coconut, Eccolinguistics, unarmed, Big Bridge, Sugar Mule, and elsewhere.
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