by Philip Jenks
there is no looking down
everything is flat flat
no mountain or hill hill
not that we don’t have angles.
to the contrary said rhetoric architectronic
I’m a land I’m a people
I’m a fist and he say u
don come back here, I shoot u
he tol me that so I be coming bak
he gots lots of angles on this
visibility is a trap
I’m the verse I’m the steeple
across over east Millennium Park
flicking sticks and greens
you the skinned them barbarian
you trainwreck you starbuck
or winey classickal concert park
but you know you know
y’all mista an missus mobbed up o oh okay
you hump humbolt in tall buildings
or jack the idea of it.
sad sad he got shot on his way home
from this place
was the driver maybe for
breaking rules. my new daily death threats.
there things I cannot tell anyone.
I’m the body I’m the ocean
I’m the salt enslaved with spllosions
of plastic bags. a little cut for you and
your lovely nipples.