A Boy Turns the Key His Own Breath Bursts | Dan Rosenberg

A BOY TURNS THE KEY HIS OWN BREATH BURSTS

no longer safely squeezed and sealed in​​ 

a lockbox  ​​ ​​ ​​​​ the boy his red aegis​​ 

shuddering maledictions pistons​​ 

pumping my lungs open  ​​ ​​ ​​​​ my lungs his​​ 

ragged wings the boy  ​​ ​​ ​​​​ my own viral​​ 

mirror eating outward from my spine’s​​ 

fluid base  ​​ ​​ ​​​​ he’s rectifying me​​ 

into a vessel some empty space​​ 

to fill me in wings of textured air

 ​​ ​​ ​​ ​​​​ and he has fine poisons  ​​ ​​ ​​​​ he’s whipping​​ 

my innards  ​​ ​​ ​​​​ unwinding his wet tail

 ​​ ​​ ​​ ​​​​ my own face but finer  ​​ ​​ ​​​​ unlined boy​​ 

of deep song  ​​ ​​ ​​​​ when he wails and wanders

in red mist and sound  ​​ ​​ ​​​​ which slakes the hunt​​ 

against its own becoming now free

 ​​ ​​ ​​​​ flailing  ​​ ​​ ​​​​ in human impossible​​ 

structures you are full of definite​​ 

furies battening yourself down  ​​ ​​ ​​​​ I’m​​ 

thinner than the thin fears  ​​ ​​ ​​​​ your ship your​​ 

prison is my mind bright boy you bite​​ 

the middling delivery man I​​ 

am  ​​ ​​ ​​​​ your trembling bark you’re fit to fall​​ 

on me  ​​ ​​ ​​​​ small and hungry as the sea