Sunday, March 16, 2014

Joyelle McSweeney

Joyelle McSweeney [voca]


We wheeled the volcano from state to state.
From the ash we fashioned vistas.

We relished effluvia. At those extremes,
we lived without differentials.
Ourselves, others. We salvaged the heatseekers
and cast off the weaponry. Bacteria
swept the ocean like decimals, barcoding the currents.

The reef disbanded and was reassembled
in the bays of a converted bomber. Launched
into the paunch of the storm, our meters
not only monitored but analyzed it.
The black clouds were deseeded and reined in.

At the hangar, there was a curling
in the pages of the manual, an inner
complication, an ever-paisling structure
making inroads in the pods. With the tips
of our toes we could almost
taste it, we could almost put our finger on it

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