783:
invention
becomes
the mother of
the incandescent
in here
beneath
the hum
and rigging
all
wires
and false
senses of
places to go
invention
becomes
tired of itself
tired of reinvention
tired of movement
and political traction
invention
all folding
back in
on itself
reminding us
of history
those calm
pages
we were read
as children.
784:
in the center
of the rug
eyes slightly
slanted
a half-sleep
a half-ringing
telephone
by the stairs
shes cold
in a thousand
hairs
while her
eyes
walk a thousand
miles
yesterday she
thought more
of herself
in the lighting
of the patio.
there is calm
amidst
the ruckus
amidst
the backbone
of her mouth
and she’ll know
more for certain
as the
ground stops
swelling.
785:
what
can we be but
children
when all we want
can be handed over
cash still writes
the checks
that pave
our feet
over the snow.
786:
the expression
written
on the wall
is that
the sweat
continues
its path
remains
on course
until
all the right
words
are soiled
into
the minds
of the children next
to the countertop.
787:
are we justified
in our
methods
actions
all leaving
the dinner plates
to a feeling
of the often-misread
no we’re still
in here
as cold
as birth
as tired
as youth
notion
the breath
as it reflects
off the walls
of January.
Joshua Robert Long is an American-born poet who’s work has appeared in OTCC Magazine, AURCO Journal, Fresh Fish, and The Hogcreek Review. He has an upcoming series of poems to be featured by Spork Press and is the author of 3 books: Translating The Avenues (Walleyed Press), Mixtape (Walleyed Press), and Leaving Frost Upon the Walls, which was self-released. More information can be found on joshuarobertlong.com
