Anselm Berrigan

   Shallow rumblings

                    This sense I have of your heart
                           failing a second time

            is gently wielding arms
                                         Its muddy countenance
                                                         my joy despite
                                             a laugh I may need
                                               to sprint away from.

Ours was an entering charged with bawdy elegance
                             generating themselves
                          as lacerations
                                          across the small of our backs

            Yet you can't expect me to romanticize
                         our common lack of depth
               when so much of what is wrinkled
                                          into this roof's misguided view
                                      of fog & skyline
           can erase the courtesy of an unhinged body.

                                                   We should take our cards
                                                                 and blend them
                                                          with a reasonable
                                                                 inflection of quiet;

                        My brother once told me
                        with exaggerated composure
                                              that an assertion
                                                  is a defensive statement
           but we remain
        free of sublimation
              & I admire secrecy           contrary as it might be
                                              to my daily personal nature.

    Desolation will always only be
                   a fraction of what we breathe
                                   at any singular moment.