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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4212 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Driving through the City on a Hot Day Graeme Mullen air looks busted and the sky is banged out like the walls of a copper pot that same Byzantium glow that my sunglasses’ gold lenses throw to the switchblades of light cutting up the city into bloody cinema, thinking am I making this all with my eyes? am I a projector? And that makes my eyes ache so I place my glasses on the dash and the sky is bluescreen now and the clouds, effects as I drive by yellow construction tape - just like how I seal off some thoughts before they are safe to say and surely there is no such thing as empty space as long as feet and rubber and heat steamroll over everything flatten everything like a park image flattened on the glass of the high rise opposite, reflections of pedestrians, orbiting without sense or grounding like too many stars, shuttering along the sidewalk, their faces glistening in the heat like new rolls of film. |
