The Body’s Case
The town between their bodies is peopled at times, & the great yowling machine roars its way this way & that, impelled by friction & a wayward wind the brightest of reds a fire engine on fire! There must be a riot going on, teasing the blood, riding the bones to a frenzy. * When the city in his head shuts down & the remaindered neon can’t save anyone, he tries to make peace with all their manufactured suffering. No curation can recover those conversational corners with tar paper & feckless railing; she’ll harangue his way to the grave, burning the bitter bridges through. * There’s a man in the trunk who hammers & pounds, nails like a screeching of tires or whales, drowning off the coast of Nantasket.