Ø
Somehow the hot sky over everything
I stared at—
the ceiling for three hours
in hopes of reaching fever dream fluorescence,
the brush-streaked cloud of what smoked me–
small white rocks, bitter crystal of too much
time pulled out from myself
to bake the day in place
with its small song–
the menacing & hollow dart of carpenter bees
grinding dust from fence holes,
the cocksure swiping of owners as dogs spray
onto rose thorn, and the washed out
blue observer effect in the thing above itself—
is as complete in its emptiness as flaws are as sustenance
for me and my regular need for punishment, regret growing
into full-on midday sun, teasing shirts from backs beneath
heads, their strobing phosphene maps of collective dissent.
How reality’s vibrato begs a second
stare, a selfie-king of bottomless heights.
Rain, reign, reins, the whole of life
asking Is that all you’ve got, my beautiful friend?
Ø
Clouds dream the dawn
Do you: your newspaper morning
Fly them through the choking park
Shine the word and leave
the bears standing bright, bewildered
under today’s high: an astral outlet
My eyes receive transmission aboard the dream
They like to hide behind time
Get me the words in the fields
around the tower wilding
cross electrical climb
The bears dream of answering telephones
light going up, spreading stir
starry America of the pastel desert
the fantasy of power ablaze
power crusted, blowing
coming soon
choking on the velvet horizon
a dust we can reach
-
Poet and video artist Adam Tedesco is a founding editor of REALITY BEACH, a journal of new poetics. His video work has been shown at MoMA PS1 among other venues. His recent poetry, essays and interviews have appeared in Laurel Review, Prelude, Powderkeg, Fanzine, Fence, Tarpaulin Sky, and elsewhere. He is the author of several chapbooks, most recently ABLAZA (2017), and the forthcoming poetry collection Mary Oliver (Lithic Press, 2019).