Sea glass

Sea glass

Sea glass Copyright Š Jack Galmitz, 2015 New York, New York

Sea glass

Jack Galmitz

Sea glass on the shelf randomness

Scribbling in my form the fractions of the clouds in the predawn

In my neighborhood there's no body of water except me

The city where I was born is gone I tramp on

It gets dark early still.... I'm glad to be a living being

following the veins of a leaf to the street

Streetlamps and stars we learn from before

Looking at myself in the store window there's a fat old man

Starlings burst from a leafless tree a song in a dream

Apartment buildings covered with graffiti a new city

Outlines of buildings in a photograph at night & that tiny light

A rock my pillow the moonlight my lamp leaves flapping about

Overnight snow crooked lines protruding with shadows

The sky a blanket of snow before it snows

Rusted nails hammered in a white painted board thin slanted shadows

I charged the tree and brought it down it's warm in my house

Did the tree choose to be or are its branches latencies

An empty grain bin a man and a woman and nothing between

is it a cry or a sound the biting wind

I like factories squat buildings belching smoke but I hate lunch trucks

Christmas Eve The tinsel on the parking lot fence is barbed wire

Uprooted fig trees razed villages the bulldozer is to blame

Weep for Khlebnikov his Radio of the Future was murdered

Praise Avraamov his Symphony of Factory Sirens recorded the end of history

A miner's pick found in a man's brain on an x-ray

The drifts of snow slow our movements down dressed in space suits