One Poem

from The World Book of Pork Dishes

it’s engaged 
and shaped 
wall washers 
on the payroll
pressing the organ  
elemental wires 
wheels turning 

you want the color 
to mean something 
and the colors don’t 
mean anything 
just stuff 
production happening 

the cattle on that plain 
is long gone 
and the clouds used 
to cast shadows on them 

the sun is no different
one cannot explain
the world to anyone 
when we understand 
that everything is wrong 

the city of new pork  
in the sleep memory 
a kiss in the street 
from the taverns 
by the secret lots 

the past 
is a never-ending source
the aspect of building 
the alter involves time 
high on the rooftop 
thinking about pork 

taxes
military drafts 
major canals 
megafauna dies
rocks that resemble 
explosions 

defense connections 
federal support 
corporate grace
chorizo grease 
a town like any other 

rain
names of streets 
drowned tools
cuddly sea 
the gold foil 
bald on the apple

out with it evening 
go believe 
moronic seltzer 
what question was 
i asking 
drifting off to sleep 

the next time 
i got depressed 
going across town 
valley floor 
seeing the vulture
black crow 
rock climbing rocks 

a tree fell 
every 40 seconds 
across the meadow 
and love 
had to take a chance 
on the southbound mail

hotel memory 
working on the river 
what matters if things are fleeting 
as long as they happened

little by surely 
one whole year 
fizzing whippets
may the lavender hue  
of nothing’s shirt  

the magnificent seven
elemental wires 
absent the frame 
major canals 
megafauna dies
rocks that resemble 
explosives

fumbling for contours 
of new pork 
city from a plane 
high on the roof
seeing none blurry
lights looked 
like candles 

diving through hills
chi chi’s on the way 

red flashing 
lights blue 
flushing lights 
green flashing 
lights red

every single day 
are you 
are you determined 
what was 
the name of the airport 
sedatives 
expedience 

this spirit was in a dead zone 

the whole 
smoke scene 
effectively four years 
name difference 
interior delta 
bruted things
stuff just production 
happening 

i’d gaze into the fountain 
and see her beautiful face 

the little red notebook i had 
with all that writing is gone  

i saw you at the demonstration 
with rain and all things gone

i wonder if things would 
have turned out differently 

if i went out with 
you guys that one night 

twenty minutes 
from mother’s day 

the train 
stops moving

Colin Russell is a poet from Walnut Valley, West Virginia. He lives and works in Queens.

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