Feed
A bus went down in Sololá at dawn.
Eleven dead on BR-101.
We had three drinks.
In Yellowstone, AI decoded wolves.
Off Yilan, sea shook out the lights.
Three thousand homes went dark and then went cold.
A tourist boat went under near Padar.
In Yellowstone, AI decoded wolves.
The year had four days left. A mountain road
gave way beneath the bus.
The wolves repeat a thing we cannot parse.
A bus went down in Sololá at dawn.
We crossed the dark the way heat leaves a room —
not felt while going, only once it’s gone.
Eleven died on BR-101 —
seventeen full minutes in your arms.
Inside I wrote initials on the glass.
The sea returned the boat without them all.
A bus went down in Sololá at dawn.
In Yellowstone, AI decodes the wolves.
2 thoughts on "Feed"
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Terrific stuff. The form is mesmerizing, and you employ it with great skill. The content consistently surprising. I’m tempted to call this a bit of a mindfuck, like a poetic version of an episode of the X-Files, but it all holds together, at least in tone. Maybe your best poem this month.
thank you — that means a lot to hear.