Potsherds and Roadside Deer.

by Colin Dodds.

 

Shades pull and shutters shut
Doors seal to mirrors and conclusions occlude
Concrescence culminates and defaults envelop
Verbs vanish and nounhood eclipses

Our substance unfairly then fairly exposed
to the warm afternoons and enormous nights
of planet loops embroidering ovals
and cut off
The happy-go-lucky merry-go-round
halts, its calliope fermenting to plywood cloud
and sponge-painted distance
The ever-excusing solvent dries, strands us
very far from where buses honk birds leap women perch
doe-eyed and bored in summer windowsills
where our shared refrain:
I thought I had more time
doesn’t matter can’t matter
We become complete
like all forms
even potsherds and mangled roadside deer
are complete

 

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