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Five Poems, by Edwin Torres

 

The Interrupted Blanket

the effort to remain ambiguous
while your heart is beating
—broken heart as shadowplay

I stand on the calculated cliff
inner rinsing against telestration
—adhesion of a sun cloud

jagged reminders
trying to look past deeply torn tensions
—just say it, are you fitting in or not

say oh, and make a good void
oh —how did that feel
what creates your properly responsive emptiness

where does my blinking mechanism
ride me, did you know
—bees sleep in flowers holding each other’s feet

and the unsleeping puzzle
—dreams
of its missing piece

the world outside these walls
is intent
—on making me face it

am I to give in, or is that giving in
one kind of freedom

—looking to fit in

 

What Dark Is When Stepped On

I want to give you one bulb for each one buried
Each one of your fingers
You have one filament, one wattage, one fuse
For pores to acknowledge receptivity

I want to give you one life for each one passed
Each one switched—can I be the one who stops for you
Can I be one sorrow, one bliss, one repeated assemblage of loss
To acknowledge availability

I want to give you one breath for each dark—stop, would you
Each one centered—stop here, in the pattern
For one day, one walk, one melted intelligence
To take the heart away—stop here

To be the one who stops—curious with darkness
One borrow, one blame, one burn
Each one lit, maybe, one take
My weight at each step

To hold you, one moment, for every one missed
Can I be that—each one telling, what each one says
You have one unknown, one interior reflection
For countless imperfections to arrive

I want to wordlessly exchange each darkness
Each one softed upon
You have one neck, one mouth, one touch
To tell me so

 

It Was Nectar You Heard in the Shadows

bee whisperers     save the swarm
and tell me when a poem     is being written
somewhere I can’t see     somewhere
far from me
a poem is being written     conceived
reborn     out of the hive
somewhere     a resurrection
is capturing the ear of a bee whisperer
riding the wind     of a thousand hums
in every stanza     I’ve never heard
is the new poem     I’ll never see
but be
up there     in the air I can
just about smell if I      just about
tilt my scent     to paint gender out of direction
how fluidity
defines a species     out of its time
to sliver a murmur     a group in midflight
to part clouds     with susurration
says cloud, well        what do you mean by that

 

Junta

the outshine of my work — to include
everything i come in contact with
<< deconstruction through skin >>            as i attempt
to hold onto allowable tail

to step back into watching << for volume to take shape >>
and dismember thought                into its avant sibling sense
shaping form — with words << an allowable act of misdeeds
given to those willing to disappear for a bit >>

if mindself serves bodyself — where to make room for wordself
tongue << direct organ to heart >> << what speaks of heart >>
takes root in heart —       can page assume body for breath
to slip through space      between inked letters — is that symphony

to juxta-proposed content, so this is — style
next phase — stuff          << where tangent travels tendril >> listen
to stereo reception received                    by the one ear
<< i’ve lost track of the ins i’m out of >> the modulation of completion —

h/a/unted by the missing ear                  enervate the composition — telegraphed
by weight        << once lifted >>
— to tolerate the intact              to take everything
as everything << to join in >> to include

 

Twill Po

and now i have to write a one page play with two characters, Undulating Twill and
Irregular Twill, who don’t live in a love story, probably an existential two-story.
both characters speak at the same time. and yes the i will be lower case because America.

you have to see this new film about the regulated interloper
out to stop the rising populace
by raising regression awareness
for the horizon’s leitmotif to become law
without dictating surface control in a system so rigged even the twee drips
belly up before wrapping hips around nuance
among the privileged folk with no spectrum of gentle cupping
for why people expose themselves to see
manpart in park see womanpart in grand central two hours later
why ghosted smiles choke on dilapidated wheatpaste repubs
pinging rejobs through a palimpsest of hectored finance
scurrilously chumped in marrow out of jealous opportunity
while rolling nuids off double don’ts
for a secret bodyvouz on a rooftop in the summer
of your bff’s latent drone bomb according to this map
having already asked how to change your messáge economique
the plussed-out terrapin injures the market
by remaining on the side of the people
where witnesses to phenomena don’t care what you believe in shirt
they just buy the latent testes by styles and colors
that deny conclusion shirt yet enhance your favorite gets
for what changes games that use your threads as veins
to make love your definitive universe thug
i’m trying to stay positive about grading young wood
back when my robe was a rip i could sink into pants
people actually put loaded guns in baby tweets social pariah pal
think about that for birthday weather pants
how miserable is the family dialect
my day was made, when what was said
could say whatever your precious fame could feel
shame knows no name until anesthetic culture
comes in waves between thighs you can’t control
labia g got rub a new toy for spring
let’s re-raw skin so it quivers inner twill job
the ratchett addendum focal okie hench grunt
great grief returns of the day
bring your hose to that pair over there before they show up
before your garden takes flight
if a flapping exists chances are i thought i could
reach everyone who didn’t read me

 

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