a page from embers

A page from Embers
by reed posey
I’m jumping ship to Europe
I’m leaving the velvet screw
I’m leaving the heterosexual dollar
I’m leaving the bombs of Detroit
The smells,
The bosses,
Those things that fall out of magazines
Those things that float off my plate
Those saintly nosey neighbors
Whose noses smell faint odors
And ears hear noises that fall out of doors
And serve General Issue who issues orders
To order extra issues
Of copies for his porter
And two coffees to go from starbucks
For chauffeurs driving hearses
With carlocks to keep corpses in coffins
Safe from warlocks
And Catholics in priest frocks and dysentery
Who lament violent over
Last rights missed or misread
And so throw clocks through windows
And smash books with crosses in libraries
A jumper of the gun for morning’s cool snatch
A number of plumbers in innumerable gymnasia about to receive the gynecological wristwatch
A romper room where the kids sit quiet and roll balls back and forth in a game of catch
A phone, A castle, A glass, A sports team, A piece of cotton, A hubcap, A batch of cookies, A piece of burlap
A circle on the floor
Surrounded by roadmaps
And cans
And pages
And pages
And pages
Of ash