Joshua Harmon


If everything belongs to something else,
we become who we want to be
imagined by, and sunlight
slants sideways over the earth
like simultaneous excruciations.
This landscape can no longer
hold itself together.

O baggage handlers! O insufficiencies!
To have known such careful doodlings!


Folded into the social, this iffy
array, maim of sparrows' lesser complaints:
scratch within branches of branches within
wind: trauma longs along these upstart lines.
Legacies of late sunlight organize
the atomic: newborn ease, the scatter
says, what-gives aftermath of unseeded
habit - substitute fugue, grass-shadowed sweek.

Waiting not in the sense of wanting to
leave, to the forthward drowsy element,
some surly specific: but in the path,
from this pause, to bellbroken almanac
and windblown memory, frequented facts
or some other sensible loneliness.


How anymore hooky
in highrise field, failed
without force of failure:

I sured you, yes,
gallopway down-
I'd go
in dithers, a truck
window-perplexed -

f'r instance
dewclaw, don't:
lapwing, love

I'd cantle skate and skill
to the barn-wood

slushy gray, tire-tracked:
bring back
this busted even-
ing, the hilly town


Nothing betrays nothing, nor
truss of lipread nothing-
in-particulars, rustic
and numinous: forge
a fern-road's souvenirs

like skin-split velocity
suggests: pistilled hymns
in gunglinting profile
equinox the field further
from hallowed mistake.

Ruined increment, knot-cap
and needle, not-kept
but slipped: a day intends
less than lit, up-pointed
airs, the habitual limits

of summoning: need nestles
close to noon, these minimal
marvels - limbed out or
remnant thwartings, days-done
if nothing furnaces nothing.