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Winter 01
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marionette engine mister and others
Chelsea Santoro


marionette engine mister


the air sleeps
no wind choreographed today
and he sits
yawns the sun when the cirrus cloud covers its mouth
and he arises
only taken with leaves blown dry
cyclic funnels he dances around and within
falling into
another place
whispering how it is that twilight comes
to love the night to morning
to the feathered concerto he swallows yesterdays
breathing hard the story onto flesh
into a new beginning
and this is the day of the marionette engine mister
and we are all smiling.

 

belly flop blues

i want to not be on deck
for hands with palms unscathed
cannot leash this
i need to tear into rain
and know how it is
to be thrown from clouds
i stand at crossroads with
yellow dogs howlin’
for souls sold with silver and bronze
if i had a jar
i’d breathe into it
and seal it shut/closed.
i laugh at puppets and strings
and bits of mirror falling
recording this dramatic comedy
of sorts
i summon the butterfly
intestine trapped and flooded
with pain and convulsing
if i was compression
i’d force its release
and steal its flight
i’d reminisce about caterpillar
days awaiting the morph
envisioning the tallest tree
wings undone and belly-flopping
into puddles unknown

 

jesters in mirrors

you never
you can
and i can do the same
can’t you spill
or don’t you have the beans
i bet i can find
nothing and i bet
the blame is long
you can’t pretend
that you miss me
’cause bottled boats
aren’t worth missing
basements
do you ever
turn the dryer wheel
so not
lo lose socks
and let nights/ him
carry wind/ scent
pass and sweet / nights
bye, again
by rain drum days
by thick/ fog
of night
this stab of revolution
this saxophone solo
of night/ day
warm
and a spin/ bye
never so willing
for wind/ scent
to warm
where socks/ you
are not

 

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