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

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