Apartment Poetry Quarterly

4A              4B              4C              4D              4E              4F





Had an idea I would lead people

Through a structure annulling itself

Un-sown and then re-sown iron

Hair filaments tinier more

Inscape than each one before.

A cross-hatch lebbeus scape

Inner and most dreamed, where

I’m in love with my

Own curious forming.

The people, I forget their names, who

Are they with so-and-so eyes

Light, non-bearing and

Endear’d somehow.

In slow burn and floodtide, all want me

So much, my dark care, my sequence:

Conciliate. Gentle metric.

Ahead and down

The city is a cake, a tiny plan really.

Is not congruent

No sub-wiring to help it.

Is damned and drained

Sits on a rock/I

Turn to the name I cannot remember with eyes

A man with the glittering

A mix of them all and alloy, adulterant.

I did once know how

To move quickly but

The fibers lapse away/I

Know the future-perfect arch gauze

Hard intricate million

Has risen from

A walk to the high line.

This is a dream, does it matter, I

Still lose my care

Fall into the narrows

Fall out to the waiting space, still

Throw my body down as aria drift.