Green Door
The World Again
Hang Up Your Hang Ups
Green Door
after Wynder K. Frog
Green door
into the side of a hill
into the waves
into algorithms
into spades
into supplication
into arithmetic
into tachycardia
into basalt
into state animals
into adumbrations
into unto another
into bees
into erasure
into benzene rings
into stage directions
into endpapers
into lachrymarys
into ergonomics
into abrasions
into outros
The World Again
after Tony Vann
As though they could exhale cabin air,
the valkyries of the future,
which continues to shrink
& distill until you begin
to doubt it is there at all.
An angle against the sun
to mark time; the sun
just a lousy orange, a porthole
into the place you were
promised. At last, there’s nothing
out in space at all—
its limits irrelevant as
longing flapping like a salmon
on the cratered surface
of some aptly named moon.
Names deflate in space,
crumple into fists, each one
raised against the joke
of the air, just a skin
like any other skin, hiding
nothing, certain of its own boundaries,
the atmosphere crushing in
is more than you could imagine.
Hang Up Your Hang Ups
after Bobby Lester
A nation
of trouble
erroneous
genesis
censors
censure
in the stocks
& on the lawns
terrible
arpeggio
in the dreaming
a bad bone
flexes
its narrative
what they knew
would be
all along
the awful
seminal
crooks
lay down
in worsted
grey hair
the old speech
still holding
oceans
the feet
of braves
over sickly
flames
Mark Lamoureux is the author of thee full-length collections of poetry: Spectre (Black Radish Books 2010), Astrometry Orgonon (BlazeVOX Books 2008), and 29 Cheeseburgers / 39 Years (Pressed Wafer, 2013). His work has been published in print and online in Fence, miPoesias, Jubilat, Denver Quarterly, Conduit, Jacket, Fourteen Hills and many others.
