floating root

[thevisiblecat]

at the helm of a leaf blower
i think of better things to do
than blow leaves
with such an interesting machine

i aim it at my face, a cat
turn on the water
and blow it into the road

i blow the leaves into smokey roy's yard

soon he will borrow my leaf blower
and blow them back into my yard
and it will go on like this
for many winters

my roommate meets a girl
and decides to quit living on the floor

the shelf life of roommates
are the half-closed eyes of the moon bursting forth

frame it or forget it
yr hands are still rosy and raw

the leaves still rustle
the bride greys on her way to the cross
the inmate loosens a handkerchief from his pocket
and fresh prayers soothe the wings of humility
(always flapping back to somewhere)

the sky ends at the porch line
as i traverse the parking garage
with jumper cables and dirt on my hoodie
just so i can watch the blood smear from a shooting star
as there is plenty of ruin to go around

plenty of good cable and bread crust

the new chalk of sunset
on my hands
my mother tells me hives run in the family
and there's a cold front on the way
and my job is always the next city
and so i develop this silver willow
in case i resemble myself
after the turbulence
after the islands
crouched so low
rise against the week
in the white swarm
of waiting

my mouth abandons me
demands payment
from the open belly
of the table lamp

and i drift into the house hush
(no sea, no engine, no bond, no duke)

though the morning is unavoidable
and caught guessing in some sightless mist
that ruptures the suckling alarm sound
i have grown cold towards
all these years

the palpitation of my disappearance

eventually i'll only be a few words

possibly an avatar
or two

making sing
an empty chair

or so