Tell us not pink
at issue after the flesh—
Clouds started off late
vehicles edited the boundaries
engines took expression.
Delayed—we washed the presence
mourned the negative drift
told ourselves well done
travelled with fissionable material
sparked with displayed ecstasy.The plan auto-assembled
similar circuit and resistances
so prolific morningless
we were awed by a rush to physics
our cursive slumber pixelated.The once adjusted burdened
a quoted eternity—narrativized
lines of oblivious structure
strewn messages behind wire.
Then the mountain fell to waves
slipped leeward became emulous
antithetical almost mesostic
such was our hard passion
wreckage on people’s lips
why the room given rightfulness
disturbed even industrious childhood.
The letter P translucent—mosaic
pivoted with the everyday panic
—I spell the savior it warned
so we wanted to say go gold
stone isn’t christ-bearing as life
self-fashioned beyond wilderness
the wilderness of a mass place
a thickness for corroded death.
Jasper Brinton born in Alexandria Egypt, was educated in the Middle East, Scotland and the United States. Over the years he has worked in publishing, printing, architecture, ceramics and wood. He lives near Kimberton, Pennsylvania in a restored schoolhouse and sails the Chesapeake in an old but seaworthy sloop. His poetry has appeared in Eccolinguistics and On Barcelona.