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the maintenance of power

There is a machine begging
to be followed. There is a way
needed to be had. A system
never holds its breath, never
stops to listen to its stars,
and our lungs burn like houses
in the middle of a soft
war. We are walking to the train
and the train is coming to get us.
We put our hands in our pockets
because we are cold, but in our pockets
is where we also go to hide.
Words are instigating floods
and fires and no one can see
the machine or hear the world
calling. We do not know where
to find the source. We radar
the streets with such poise.
And when we open our mouths
to sing, we sometimes scare
our ignorance to a whole new level
of amendment. The story
always and never becoming ours.
Picture
Alfred Stieglitz. The Hand of Man, 1902. Photogravure. The Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Curtis Perdue is the author of one full length collection and two chapbooks. Recent work has appeared in Yes, Poetry and Poetry City, USA. He lives in South Kingstown, Rhode Island, with his beautiful family.
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  • Home
  • About
    • Masthead
    • Contact
  • Archive
    • Issue One
    • Issue Two
    • Issue Three
    • Issue Four
    • Issue Five
    • Issue Six
    • Issue Seven
    • Issue Eight
    • Issue Nine
    • Issue Ten
    • Issue Eleven
    • Issue Twelve
    • Issue Thirteen
    • Issue Fourteen
  • Guidelines