brad bradley ≈

.

SONY DSC

.

cloud pretending

cloud becoming

.

take history for example: a silver hue, almost
invisible; almost never. only when mentioned,
as a matter of fact. “i am
responsible,” i then admit, “for my vessel.
there, i said it. are you happy now?” her
quizzical look. “i’m just saying that i am way
outta shape.
my wings are like bricks.” she wedges antlers
into the blowhole, keyhole, into the shifting
window, hollers into
the void,
“bring me your love! bring me your best
teeth!”
antlers morph into a surgical straw and broken
bendy
neck. weather leaks out. w e a t h e r   l e a k s .   w   
e    a      t     h    e       r       .
silver seepage. “i am thirstier
than medical literature. i am danger
in the language.” “c’mon! c’mon! push
air! maintain density!
yer not vapour yet!
ah ha!
a new silver lining.
what’d i tell ya?”
again she pushes her fingers through,
“what’d i tell ya huh?”
my heart elastic and smooth. now,
take history for example, and evolve into additional fluids.
“this
means more than wetter, yes.”

.

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