Rotary

He doesn’t do double doors 
strawberry heads a leaden organ 

or two these floors are neon jeans 
walking through the sky he eats 

an iron stone doesn’t kiss 
or drape her back across linoleum 

when she sleeps doesn’t dream 
about denim. Once the doors open 

these hands touch steel 
these lungs gnaw oxygen 

these stomachs distend 
these eyes cannot carve the bed 

from soap stone cannot distinguish
between hospital and arboretum 

see sight after sight after she 
turns the corner he notes 

some had liver and onions 
while others had savory moons.

Nathaniel Vincent Mohatt | Mudlark No. 42 (2011)
Contents | Elephant in the Coal Mines