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Georgia Faust

22 Dec Georgia Faust

SPECTACLE WORK

 

BEFORE AFTER Bowling
Green I took a Doc Martin off
to identify the irritant:
crystal like rock
salt to eject I am
the morning spectacle.

After Franklin Avenue an exploding
seltzer bottle spectacled
me.  After document
slicing the sting
and then the red
to surface [so determined
to keep momentum
of a train track]
on vertical lines
holding up sky in cold
because the sun
inconsistent to cells,
windows, and
other perpendiculars.

Park Avenue retains
heat, sunlight drawn.

Tea on chair, ring
around the couch,
milk uncovered.  Exploded
to the floor-flesh.  Alert
mode: a bag the shape of
a body.  If you see something
you cannot sit glued
to the news of
an important disaster event.

Separate living past
from living tragedy
curated tourism experiences.
Someone walked away
with my braid.  Someone detached
my braid and walked away
with my braid.  I keep my eyes
open I can’t stop I can’t stop
myself.  Am I on the roof
or aren’t I?  A cop asks,
“are you alright?” to the diagram
map.  As in, I’m in this now.

I forgot to give back, hi.
As soon as the doors closed,
I rattled mechanic
head on neck stand.
I want to be the puzzle of
a logically impossible
Venn Diagram.

To be a major
player on my face: absent
peripheral vision.  High
on employment.  Turn
the ring gem in: the snake
snapped at neck,
whatever that means.

The head returns the knot
muscle traded in
for the cat skeleton I now
am in shades of pain
trying on for size.  Head rushes
overuse flesh superlatives
ruddy of positive and negatives
depend upon excitable
perception frequencies.

The having of the flood
city into sea.  I drowned
in tower slept in other
beds a night, per diem.

I told you the underthings
are fireproof, proof of storm,
proof of changeling
channeling the natural
disaster tourism board.

I spent exactly no times
in mirrors.  Not taking
tourism seriously enough.

People avalanche,
three times around the stadium.

 


 

NO SPITTING / NO RADIO PLAYING

 

as no one other
has beens

I thought I was building a Ponzi scheme but midwinter scrolled backwards

because explosions
flatten
hand printed
community logo
The thigh schemers
downed feathers
incorporated
moon walk

I could have walked to Jay Street in the time it took to impersonate a shareholder

elder berries
contagious eternities
hip hip
hyper extension

I woke on the shuttle bus unknown hands in my hair in public snow out of view

permission slip
alarming dust
not a hurricane
closet skeleton
invented architecture
reverberated + died

The sound I heard couldn’t be accounted for the tremor existed visually

next event
froze + flight
Mussorgsky made
sound trusts
rust in rebar
I trapped in
exhibiting
the back of the knees
thusly stiffed

 


Georgia Faust grew up in Manhattan and lives in a vortex in Brooklyn under botanical gardens.  She received an MFA in poetry at Brooklyn College. She presides over legal billing protocol by day and writes by night.

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