Let me speak with expressive
hesitation & a feeling for
lineate what isn’t broken by
from refused convalescence
& feed it those long fronds
of river bed grass. I want to
tear the heart out of style
utter thrall & the infancy
Torn out, a flame thickens
lie not a little more tender
reluctance to die or even
leave youth culture ever.
that sometime, somewhere,
someone said to themselves
set those people over there
on fire but I’m just not
puts their arms around you
in the cold. There’s an al-
most disquieting closeness
becomes an impasto derivative
a description of prevailing
ideology, relics, the life
up in jonesing that comes
the way I nuzzle dreamily
‘fatal position’ as my
with the contours of your
something like this — I
don’t want to loose you. I
to you to start with still
keep on coming back to me
forever? That’s the meaning
Dana Ward, This Can't Be Life, Edge Books.