Bl–dstre+m
I’ve arrived clad in Appaloosa skin and goat hooves
precisely to ride myself furious
until I’ve outrun me.
What do you think split the seas? A fond hope?
I’ve swapped mine for this deranged tongue
so when I do ramble off the cliff
I’ll not say dreary this isn’t it but rather
incoherent blathering
a sort of dismal neighing which suggests
I am utterly terrified of anything ambiguous.
I want to know with certainty
how the moon leaks blood
& where the dripping lands.
I’m furious that Constantine saw a vision of the cross
and by this he conquered
though when I hold up the smitten corpse
of some road kill creature in a department store
screaming BY THIS EXTINGUISHED BODY
I AM VINDICATED
nobody believes me.
poems by nicholas alti 