When I carry you, my shirt stretches against my throat. Each step makes a pile, makes a break elsewhere. Inside your torso a blue jay is hungry. Inside mine a cat is very still.

Let us say there is a lady waiting to be addressed; a voice like two stations in the progress These things descend from the static in audible chariots much as wine does after the cheers when no one looks what’s left when no witness asks the question besides the sensation of being beside your own […]

Drunk in a flat off Nevsky Prospekt. Telephone ignored — importunate knock at the door. Escort of four KGB to the street, their officer from the black ZiL’s backseat, “Jonah Amitaievitch, a cosmonaut in Leningrad? No.” Launched here from the cosmodrome in Kazakhstan. A minor prophet pitched in elliptic orbit tumbles weightless, swallowed by the […]

Curry, off Oxford Circus, at 5PM —      Aeneas, alone, ate for distraction at loose ends of jetlag after      the turbulent flight from O’Hare. All night the hull had shuddered      clearing reefs of cloud below. He was abroad for another acquisition,      another trip rehearsed by rote. Tomorrow, he knew, would lose him      in work’s familiar tallied […]

I know it is dark lady when my ears pop her voice pushes static aside as oil pushes water the cold economy of report even comes to me as quote muse unquote music             : The radio has no memory but we do that’s the problem with the club these days: who’s the message for? The […]

one tenseless moment liquefies to be lost into the stream of static’s gray light a lapse develops him the tape but reveals the reels degaussed emptied of ghosts he sorts through this tissue of noise for accusative objects he could once recall as the magnetic arrows of the tape seethe out from their mound to […]