Saturday, July 4, 2026

Reminds Me of Sleepy and a Place to Bury Yourself In

mouth     open ear     tympani
in their music the crackling even the upstairs of the street
the dumped     the abandoned     the begiggled
the grizzled automata their singing grown to garbage can level
song of lost teeth     tone of tattered accompaniment
code’s other door opened     no dealer card visible

the shy     agony     of light
the dawned men up from the sidewalk
prostitutes of fortune     creatures of bow and arrow
animal feed aimed at everybody’s mouth
it gets that way sometimes
use these sunglasses to visit our carnival
i can hear a ritual desert approaching

reminds me of geophysical neurosis and 
growing up a short distance
	a frantic grandfather’s house
	a short-handled meal to anyone who looks
they’ve done the district and it looks like a young woman i once knew
the first time i saw it it just stopped     winked
nowhere near as fine as peasants being restored
reminds me of very little half a block ago
	echo code door opened
	that short sharp noise again
reminds me of a footprint my dog found in pompeii
the whole district discovering the power
when everybody puts their forefingers together
and hums





from Yew Nork (2014)