Author: David Wright

CRYPT. Cool marble, dim light. Over the threshold, I see a bright
POPPY field, not hushed, not inward, just alive.
POISEd between the two I know that
FLESH is as grass, and grass fades. But first, grass is a green bed for poppies.

SHEER cliff descended, pre-positioned kayak retrieved: paddle for it.
DRIER moments soon envied, each breath stokes hope of freedom.
ROWER, sore muscled, with blistered hands, feels he can
CINCH it. Just a few more miles across the bay, before the sun comes up, before alarms sound.

STIFF upper lips, unsmiling team-what’s left of it-gathered.
PHOTO shows frostbite and hollow cheeks. Still:
DATUM is finally established-until the ice melts.
FRISK them now, you’ll not find a scrap of food, perhaps some scribbled prayers.

CRANK thinks backstory gives him Übermensch victim status, like
JOKER or Bane. Plots heist to make his name. His villain prop:
LASSO. In the event, it snags on a lamp post and hauls him to curb,
TOOTH chipped, getaway foiled, jewels rolling in the street.

CRAWL past the windows, to avoid
aGRO IN my fundie family, then
GLIDE away on my bike to the dance.
POLKA past midnight. Now, can I get back undetected?

BUSHY beard, long nails, dark bags under eyes,
WORRY consumed, walls closer now, hope is slender.
PATIO? Should I go out into the sun? And if so,
SHAVE first? Take a step?

REEDY voiced Patton, inextricably both martinet and maverick,
VOICE high, swearing a streak, because warriors swear,
CURVE of gleaming helmet liner, ivory pistol grips, blending with
START of battle in feral drive, never letting up, hard charging worshipper of Mars.

VOCAL about truth, yet quick to slander,
PRESS bias decrying, even so partial only to one’s tribe,
GUSTO for a past estate, exactly none for present day.
DECAL of a fish on the car, opaque cipher, meaning less and less.

PLANK in my eye, yet
SHONE as disgraced to me the
ARTSY fakers, the influencers, the sham
CLICK mongers, blinking with their grains of sand.