I’m Not The Cosmos
Never pick a fight with anyone
who still buys blank media in bulk.
Remember the bliss of auto-reverse,
the occult trope of tape hiss in mega-bass.
Underpass, BB gun, something with flame
& acid. Breath or wind rides bodies to the ground.
Some of us only live in cleanses
or rebirths via the jaws of life.
Do me a favor and draw me
your skull real quick. Rewild it.
Every school bus on Long Island sits empty today,
their single seatbelts for drivers only.
As someone old shopvacs the empty houses,
a teen lawnmows trash into scraps for sparkle.
Patrick Williams is a poet and academic librarian living in Central New York. His recent work appears in publications including Nine Mile Magazine, Posit, and Bennington Review. His chapbook Hygiene in Reading (Publishing Genius, 2016) was awarded the 2015 Chris Toll Memorial Prize. He edits Really System, a journal of poetry and extensible poetics and is the hands behind typewriter.city. Find him at patrickwilliamsintext.com and on Twitter @activitystory.