|David Branch photo|
—what are we here? The hive mind
answers hive-ily, their suggestions
make for us, make for us: brzoom, as
high-school boys, cunt-struck.
“Oh we were young, oh we banged around the world,
holding our arms out, hoping for what?”
All the while, something, my love, bore down on the boat, a power
quick and sickly, cut-throat.
But we happened,
we happened, drawing each other out,
reading newspapers, novels until the marina
swooped back into view.
Across the water, shimmering:
powerful, calming, and regular as credits—
First published in Agni 80