The finger for beheading
across your phone
Across the facts
one is supposed to reconcile
you take in text
and the day takes you in like a pool
Helicopter drags its shadow
a double surface through the streets
The upshot of a body
is I D I S P L A C E
The air itself
something other than indifferent
when I was walking making little circles with my fingers
to feel the space
out past the skin

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan