Feb
7th
Sat
7th
“Full-Tilt”
through a twist a broken spoke
what calms it down, this spin
is a quiet
is a voice
is a note
is a flurry
white white white sheets of static
and all plus for a room for one
now full tilt and for two so so
filled up
through a mast of a wooden ship
junk ship bent from a gale maybe
tale spun
spun out
drawn out
sails up
is a movement
like an orchestra tuning and
then out of the silent woody
reeds
a hilly crest, a fallen army
a sunrise horizon blast
this is
what it is like
to wake
and hear my lovers voice
