For Real Sis-Bro, Do You Even Space?


Midwestern pupils observe a prescription drug commercial,
The pulse of the audience flexes with the narrators tone.

Solemn when describing reality,
Exuberant when describing relief.

A space belies side effects.
A space is all the audience ignores.

An undertone of death
Relinquishes a squint
From narrow framing.

Outside a murder of suicidal crows
Lodge their beaks between the spaces
That separates the neighbor’s fence posts.
A caw.
A coo.
And the commercial ends.
But for the crows
The catalyst to commit suicide
Has broken through their wooden nooses;
Distributed like sunlight
Evened out in the spaces
Of opened blinds.

And we can find peace for them,
In those spaces,
Those inches of memory
That measure where an image structures self
At the behest of words, words, words.

To be precise
I enjoy the millisecond
After opening the refrigerator-
And a corpse cold
Beelines across my nipple and stomach,
Forcing a tickle.

It’s a familiar space
That generates
A new reaction
Every time.

Thy name is reassurance.

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