Tuesday poem #396 : Lloyd Wallace : It’s My Birthday. I Will Fight If I Want to

 

 

And against a marble stump

I lean the glass sword

of a sigh. My heart is blinking

like a taco truck. That means I’m late

to walking, haunted, through the aisles

of a Kohl’s.

I know, I know. A goose is dragging

an aurora borealis

through my living room. Somewhere,

a mountain’s tipping over

like a stack of paper plates.

Whatever, though. It’s time

for bed—I hear the yellow

snouts of mitochondria

blowing bubbles in my blood.

I won’t say bye. I’ll say visit

again, whenever you would like.

This heart’s a door

kicked in by language.

You do not have to knock.

 

 

 

Lloyd Wallace is on staff at the Adroit Journal and Poetry Daily. His work has appeared in FENCE, THRUSH and periodicities. The recipient of a fellowship from The Folger Shakespeare Library, you can find him on Twitter @jockeycornsilk.

the Tuesday poem is curated by rob mclennan