if you wait for it it goes – by ROBIN WYATT DUNN

if you wait for it it goes

thrown overboard

by poems and stones

and roves of onions

 

a thwack in the ass

bumping you outdoors:

 

beard me

for the broken hour

and field me

for the fast of the sky

bind me to a steed and set me free

I’ll howl over your waves

I’ll burn your cities in my joy.

 

Burning and brilliant.

 

I am a boy in your city.

Brilliant and afraid.

 

I am shining my light in the dark

Into your eyes.

I am blinding you.

 

I’m sorry;

It’s too much light.

 

The light all around;

Cantankerous,

Cacophonous light.

 

Storming and shredding me to alight–

to run–

 

Run with me

over the broken bones

and the black delight

 

to the baleful energy of the free

and the waves of the tragedy

of your eyes

prepare to wreck the day

for the fundamental aegis of a mourning spell

the bell you’ll ring when it’s right

to kill the air and the mind

 

begin to send the drifters in

to mull about and build the stumps

flyover laughs and cool regards

 

spray the ceiling with the silver

and march

bake the goods fast

we deliver night

 

love wreaks the plow and skate curve round and cheat the eave

cut open the eyes

 

to see the black

 

it’s bamboozle to wrack the flow of your soul

up and down

lightning

***

 irish

Robin Wyatt Dunn writes and teaches in Los Angeles. Recently he was
made a finalist for poet laureate of his city.

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