Untitled #7 – Mister Colvet
tied together through an ampersand
separated by strings of commas and ellipses
since the words never turn out right when I’m thinking
or reminiscing about plain old habit days
ends of cords always dangle
unless fastened to the side of the bedframe
pushing pedals posted on metal frames
interlocking gears clanking turns
aside natural bays of liquid dreams
the clippers can clearly cut the fence
but need neon jackets to stay alive
hiding rucksacks in bushes
relieving oneself on tree stumps in the periphery
with fields coated in jet and coal
even flowers hold their ears
as the stream billows and bells toll
violent whistles in the wind
I’m used to be being in places
in which I do not belong
remaining undetected
from sensors and captors in the night
but the ocean mist pushes
the aerosol clouds downstream updraft
into the nostrils of steel addicts
highlights and shades won’t fix your perspective
but bearings still clack on metal housing units
signaling everyone that Jack is here
that the hangman is coming
but thievery seems repugnant
when you’re offered a free ride
but this hitch out of dodge
will chop the ampersand in half
and sever our energetic umbilical cord
putting acres of grass clippings between us
the demons always have a bipolar method to madness
enticing with their realized fallacies
manipulating dolls with black mascara
scattering curvatures atop tangent lines
splitting images with content filters
splashing Kool Aid on Nike Decades
the walk home will be in hours and days
but the typewriter ribbon is fading
and my papers blew in the wind
when running from white vans and angry men
but the glint of new streetlights and city parks
aligns my cords
for a little while at least
eating gelato on the wharf
by wallowing manatees
and customers feasting on fennel cobb salads
sipping on mimosas in afternoon sunbaths
enough of a distraction
from your closed expression
and lips sealed with curved pins
from the ampersands you ripped in half
the distance of steel displaced us two
I think I’ll sit here for a little while longer
Mister Colvet is a chemical/biomedical engineer by trade, an over-thinker from birth, an artist by necessity, and a poet at heart. To date they have two independently published books of poetry available on Amazon.com.
