Am meisten gelesen ▸
Judson Crews
Voice choked
the water
gushes
The operas
buffeted by wads
of blonde hair
Huff huff
I whispered
to the children
But then
the guards
saw us
And came walking
on their
high stilts
We broke our
The field of our day lay ordinarily
before us. Gravity and practice
tethered our thoughts
to checklists. Helium
swelled fabric beyond wrinkled
rainbow to painted light-bulb. Up—
and foreheads; then hats and coiffures,
quickly pigment on the landscape. Cheers
littered the wind. We thought
we knew the limits. But late
in the day the continent of air between
field and cloud shrank to an urgent isthmus.
The causes were final and cited
accurately. In the meantime,
we bartered in good faith with Earth,
starting with sandbags, moving through provisions,
Hands, do what you're bid;
Bring the balloon of the mind
That bellies and drags in the wind
Into its narrow shed.
PIETRO has twenty red and blue balloons on a string.
They flutter and dance pulling Pietro's arm.
A nickel apiece is what they sell for.
Wishing children tag Pietro's heels.
He sells out and goes the streets alone.