share


Sleepwalking through the Mekong

I have my hands out in front of me.

I’m lightly patting down everything

I come across. I somehow know the

banana shake when I touch it.

 

I can see myself from above.

As if on a video monitor.

Why?

 

I travel slowly down every alley,

across every rice paddy,

into and through every bedroom,

into and through every closet.

I am asleep and yet I am polite.

 

electronica

 

rain showers

 

It is always like this.

I wear a light brown suit.

When I come upon you I grope you

for what seems like ten minutes.

As you have noticed.

But I am excused because I am asleep.

It is understood I am harmless.

I am like a blind reverend.

I am like a politician.

A ten-year-old girl detains me

in the park. She carefully clips

each of my fingernails.

 

When I yawn the earth rumbles.

I pat cans in your pantry.

It is said sparks can be seen

coming from my briefcase.

But I do not carry a briefcase.

I am not like that.


ABOUT THE CONTRIBUTOR

is an American poet from Livingston, Montana. He is the author of Can You Relax in My House, Yes, Master, and Thin Kimono.

READ NEXT

poetry

January 2016

Sex-Desert

Galina Rymbu

TR. Joan Brooks

poetry

January 2016

I’m screaming lying alone in this settlement     everything empty only emptiness sex – is a desert  ...

feature

October 2012

Film: Palestinian Airlines

Eddie Wrey

feature

October 2012

    Palestinian Airlines Produced and Directed by Eddie Wrey Co-produced and translated by Max Wrey Co-edited by Rye...

Interview

December 2013

Interview with Tess Jaray

Lily Le Brun

Interview

December 2013

In the light-filled rooms of The Piper Gallery is a painting show that features no paint. Brought together by...

 

Get our newsletter

 

* indicates required