The Interior Metaphysics of Concrete

you’ve heard it before first:
i can’t keep     the roar of tin can phones 
out of my head

that was an incredible lightning storm last night
as orangutans idealized the howls of mixing bowls
and i heard your doorknob cough and scurry off down the street
the cold wet sidewalk     still vibrating from the rhythms
of dry dog dishes     as sodden horses wait outside the subway
and cars slop themselves in the face with sludge to try to stay awake

incandescent monks pass corporate logos amongst themselves
o the glow     o to be turned into a flyswatter
those old city maps     you can wear them as kneepads too
your reptilian memory chews real live fleas from sumerian window sills
small monkeys may ride haywagons in the dark but
their hilly knowledge of the metaphysics of concrete
approximates baby talk once the storm’s over

this is part of the walk     your last year’s four-year visa
that     like a splash of icy water
makes even the tradition of rationality a legend
and the exiled nobleman waiting your table says
	it’s in the laundry now
	chasing its reputation around in circles
	please have patience
	with its wild youth

from Amateur Mythology (2017)