Dispatch #46
Other Surfaces
Other Surfaces
Snowplows vibrate the walls
and the water in a vase shakes:
flowers that fail
to fool my room away from winter
sit on a speaker blaring news:
panic sapped into fatigue.
I follow the day
through windows, shadows
barring the floor; I track the season
by what’s stuck in sewer grates.
Today they’re under half a foot of snow.
I’m walking in it, hungover, hovering
over a notebook to chisel a phrase.
Sky’s gray grain gathering white.
White enclosing white.
A clean and marginless page.