The Poetry Project

Two Poems

Dustin Williamson

Vessel [For John Coletti]

He makes the best of every situation
Even good onesxxxxxfor the sake of
staking a position to feelings
In endless iterative linen closets
Where the fridge becomes the oven
And all flesh becomes patient
tentaclesxxxxxLeads to a caper in the
flower martxxxxLeads to a film actively
watched in bar with the sound off
It’s a method in search of a
tool-making monkeyxxxxThe proverbial
shit-faced weddingxxxxxThe dawn
meeting in the heat of dayxxxxIt’s trivia
night again in AmericaxxxxxxIt’s the
kind of place where you install your
initials in the tile floor and gag
Like refs in motionxxxxWhere body
language meets factxxxBut we all need
to concentrate on tonight’s game
Not baby Jesus on the crossxxxThen
wake up, God in tractionxxxxxA
nervous knack for lingers in twig light
Two days of push ups and mock
drafts In the vicinity of the vicinity
For which every use is an alternate
onexxxEvery point of view subject
adjacentxxxxxxxA fault in which we
wade deeplyxxxIn effluvial flow

Vessel [Milwaukee Story, for Gabriela Salazar]

“Remember when we used to come here
& drink whisky & eat spinach pizza &
cry?” – Frankie Latina to Sean Williamson

To begrudgingly live by a code
means to suffer all loopholes Feral
potatoes between plots in debt
Fleet glacier of Northern Antipathy
Reading into reading intoxxxxxSolid
light filtered through coffee grounds
A recent love stalks through the grass
of digital geography To stake no
claim To refrain from conversation
with elegant humans of recent regard
xxxxxxThe map narrates mood
lighting over seat 24AxxxA two-hour
flight spent looking out a window
Clouds in the dark Astounding
contagionxxxxxUsing both hands to
keep from exploding You’re yours to
keep existence thinxxFlying over
Lake MichiganxxxxxxxNot a sea
just an interruption in the screen
A world to editxxxxxxxA shift in the
tenor of the enginexxxxA closing
distancexxxxxxxA glimpse of the
ground in the shape of an aphorism
A poisonous retreadxxxAnother in a
line of charged particlesxxxxxA fear
of the middle distancexxxxxxxA ping
pong ball falls into my liquid center
Where cohabitation becomes a kind
of exibihitionismxxxxxIn denial bed
Wrath and hesitation It’s a brand of
light gossipxxxIt’s placing second in a
race no one cares aboutxxxxxHandy
in the face of liabilityxxxI was almost
born during the quiet chuckles of cat
performancexxI would not go
anywhere you can call home It’s a
technical term in an obsolete
technologyxxxLike waking up every
morning married with nothing to give
but reasonablenessxxxLike like like
garlic in my depthsxxxxxA quiet
revolution shrugsxxxxxCries into new
lifexxxxxturns to damp dustxxxxxOn a
hillockxxxxxxxxxOver the grange

Issue 12