Flat One, 6am (from Where, the Mile End – Julie Morrissy)

do those moments belong
to someplace else               somebody else
a giggle I don’t recognize
a dance I’ve never seen
skin against a door
a split second stirred

    half thoughts

            half words

                  half smiles

    hang in air I can’t touch

                        air within––

    cool blue surrounds a kitchen counter
    at unexpected corners, my eyes cry
    the sting of smooth leather

    that counter

                          that counter

                                      asserts itself, resolute
                                      a boat in a basement
                                      the roll and pitch of bodies

       some days I turn the corner
       at Bathurst and Ulster, fall flat on my knees
       palms smack sidewalk


Pennsylvania Back Then (from Do Horses Fly? – Brendan Cleary)


in the 3-sided shed
I’m walking with the dead

running skipping & jumping
walking slow & fast

so in a dream was it?
water from years ago

stopped in mid-air
every splash & trickle


ah the grids
the passing instants

wrestlers & athletes
wrinkles arriving

Blanche Eppler in 1885        
pouring water from a pitcher

unselfconscious & naked
half telling a story

half captured half free
long before the Talkies

before the Lumiere Brothers
their train making havoc

before Chaplin & Marilyn            
before The Matrix

a man with a beard
swinging a pickaxe

splitting the air
in the world above

cutting a shape
into Silicon Valley.