Jess Grover
VERY BUTTRESSED
Very buttressed my gums
& dehydrated I repeat waking up
to find you transcribing for Argueta as
in I fell back asleep. Burgundy sashes
of the domicile across: blood
rinds, hair lashes
overspill
over must be I sleep
gape-mouthed, mawing
the farm-mower night, I’ve again stranded
amongst the reedy untoward &
disagreeable. Overhead the
bright bulb junket
convenes my chest cage opalescent
with potential also
deaf as a phone booth of
birds also polyglot, multifarious, bum-rushing
the mail slots; the neighbors
were around not any evening I thought they
moved then they watched us
sliding anagram tablets.
My spied-on movements.
The bombs of gesture: this one
starts like a butterfly stroke, terminates
with you over my shoulder, giggling
to be put down. Next from the building
another building comes. That’s called adjacent. Like
what we are & what sheers us: the air inside
the wall when vastly on either side
the air is.
