In a sudden neck of air

Eric Conroe

In a sudden neck of air
and feeling the spring, lonely guy
gets vegetable tattoos. life hingeing
on one acknowledgement, one nod
that a complexity continues. can’t place
heal thy   rhythm? Venus is out 
and heading into april
the pleasure of our function
in full defiance of the weather
eight wheels eight legs
who die and get repeated.
what do you mean just the joy
of collision? situating themselves in
the universe is for nightmare people
intact in the present, promising
once again a masochist will find
his voice in the future. it’s funny
this intuition has been working
against me for years
with a pedestrian aplomb
the poets creep nearer to me
cover their faces, their calculated
fluidity is a waste of time
if what strokes it into communion
with itself is an attitude
of impairment. then you’ve just got
more reality. lots of space
and nothing sacred but the means
available to cross it; lots of space
nothing sacred but the means
available to cross it. you know
what they say – normal life
won’t cut it and i would agree
with the traces of conflict evident
in the way you remove yourself
but locks take keys and you
must be used somehow.