Drew Gardner




Ladies and Gentlemen … The Stars!



I can’t possibly represent the feeling

and wouldn’t want to

thinking of my friends searching for love


there are vagaries can only be

certain bewilderment, at first machines

become custodians of


neon organs across human space

remember the past we gave up don’t

remember giving it up, a very young boat exiting

like the surface of the what between us and it


goes much deeper than that

is the shape one lives in


bells on Bergen and Court

and birds together

they’re probably saying the same thing about us

better than anything anyone

could ever write or play


I guess I fucked up

loud footsteps

that come from a wrong attitude toward the world


the cautionary shank of anxiety moves down

from the shoulders and neck

into the diaphragm, announced

beforehand, or described afterwards

doesn’t move closer, but gets a lot louder


that isn’t someone’s fault

that’s a message

moves ahead of its sound


if you went there I think

they would be there

classical, confederate, gross

but I’m not sure it’s important


so maybe I should have bought Bill’s car,


I guess you have to go there

to not know if they exist

searches you out like movements of snow

in the sign language in the next compartment


as quick as a jackrabbit

to make it last

as Duncan McNaughton has it, the way

the substance of things is presently real

even into what you’re not attached to


strange wheat, laughing




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