Mar/Apr 2017 • Vol. XXXIX No. 2 PoetryMarch 1, 2017 |

Ceiling

You're meant to lance it with Phillips-head concede defeat for the moment the way bloods letto stave off greaterbloodshed, disaster—coax thin thread into truce-bucket preventive measure against mass water against the force of what we've prayed for(with tank near empty) and would hold back nowallow, not fight it— pointless to staunchwith weak interior taking and taking while outside breach over your head goes undetected— instead, you spread each plastered finger as if to feel for pulse or flutter and paste your mess like salve or poultice in one last gesture of trust or educatedguess, based on what's held till now and should go on holding.

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You're meant to lance it with Phillips-head concede defeat for the moment the way bloods letto stave off greaterbloodshed, disaster—coax thin thread into truce-bucket preventive measure against mass water against […]

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You're meant to lance it with Phillips-head concede defeat for the moment the way bloods letto stave off greaterbloodshed, disaster—coax thin thread into truce-bucket preventive measure against mass water against […]

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