tongues who feast in salt rinds of passage
narratives of swallow and effect no-
                                                                             one decides
whose hunger carpets in stormy weather
whose sank face, chows, all organs against
in breakneck wanting sunlight position
I might be an empire’s colossus of scale
break of bone — sound of cannon
imagine: long rays out — form of cloud collapse
a sky is indigo blue and its radiate pours
something I see: dreams
                                                      no
dis/s—————————————
                                                                continuous wealth
what narratives are found encrusted
                                                                precipitate
all that is lexicon sought them
same after walls
what forms when whose licks
comprehend

collapse                                            /d
                                                                crystalline

I call war
in my mouth

Read the rest of Overland 244

If you enjoyed this piece, buy the issue

Or subscribe and receive
four brilliant issues for a year