Ensifera; P. 36
by Andrew Colarusso
the laws
like currents
and smaller folds-
pried
she remembers
how he spoke
songs to the dead
worn
these kids
lose so many things
if he chained it up
a bike rack
not far
when he asked me
leaving things around-
-everything
his eyes
one the quick
screeching to a halt-
of electricity-
things eyes whitened-
darkness-
these children
waking up always
carry along
along smaller
dread skins
open
the blind
his soft
in their silence
wood
they
never told me
there was
you know
and he didn’t seem to care
to find it
-leaving
these kids
fixed on a point
leave of asylum
-bold blue flash
-he speaks into
from constant
-lamenting
he finds himself
waking down
Andrew E. Colarusso is the Editor in Chief of the Broome Street Review. Only the planets equal his rapacity.