“Darmok and Jalad at Tanagra”
I’ve siphoned quarries of amygdala
to whet the parch of white
from a faux leather couch
binging through Star Trek and lost arks
in a room we just painted Behr Interlude.
I might be bordered on the lop side
but there are slick traces of you
metamorphosing from the pancake dreamer of treachery
under the sink plotting with a whisk
to sprint from the pantry with a jar of onions
fractured at the base and dripping scent
to extract the Well of Souls from tear ducts.
Quick, swipe a dish towel to wipe my eyes
and yours together juice and spit.
I imagine the other side of me
and where she might reflect
on this evacuation plan…
upward like a cannon erected —
moonstruck. Advances slink through space/time,
woken with words from a dream of bobbleheads.
All that there is in such a study
contributes to my endeavor
to wreak my bellied freedom
where crevices sink as crevices do
when a couch is bound in Naugahyde,
aliens battle for metaphor
and New Orleans can gush into space.
Ladowich Magazine is available in the Apple Newsstand — https://t.co/bhbBwDr0F9 — offering just enough poetry and one longread a month. This poem will appear in issue seven, arriving before the new year.
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