The Poetry Project

Six Poems

Benjamin Krusling

friendship is roughly everywhere , thanks

the uniformed person puts traffic cones
xxxxxdown in neat rows , they’re bright

xxxxxxxxxxorange . weeping . what’s next

xxxxxis I’m happy for your jazz concern . it’s all sexual

& if I pushed it clear we’d still be on the street

xxxxxright inside the boundary . I’m so happy . there’s nothing

going on .

S was right about winning – full of information , unglowing ,
xxxxxsynthetic color in the limbal ring .

it’s just people look so good

xxxxxwhen you trust them

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx& you don’t look

issa sonnet

it’s a point of factxxxxx harm is dramatically under
nourished .xxxxx “ that father’s white-hot again
and I’m on a journey to the supermarket ,
the classroom where floors are stained with indigo ,
where disassociative taxpayers
chase visions of burning police vehicles .
( what’s that look like in my eyes ? did you think
of black wizardry ? are you dripping with sauce ?
dreaming seems great cuz there’s always examples
loaded in the pornographic myth maker . the truth is that
the strangling is known in certain places
as singing . the truth is you agree . “ violence is cool .
that’s why you’d sell your soul for family !
that’s why I’m here with fear and tears about it

(I take my bones off on the walk and race)

I take my bones off on the walk and race
the very airxxxI get a good idea of how
it should be treated

then people make little automatics
with their anxieties ( ex : I step inside get rushed
from room to room soul shaking

while my life is full of friendship
crossroaded by enormous stretches
of zeroxxxxxyou can sit next to

a corpse and not know it xxxxxyou can be
a very quiet hero to the black kids
with heavy headsxxxxxyou can do itxxxwrite

the book that saves the day and sets
a boneless person on the hunt
for the reflexive mode

important health information

laughter is social . grinning is just for me .
my life gets me in the door
it gets me in so when I exempt despair
from the rippling text chain ,
the dumbwaiter sends friendship bracelets
to the top floor of the house . thank you .
so nice . when you see my face , you don’t ask
if it’s all there . it better be . then it feels
so righteous to ask cruelty a question ,
like : who is your manager ?
do you hang a sheet ?
or kick a hole
and if my pleasure’s all gone ,
do you want control ?

he didn’t know what he was smiling at because there was no image in the frame
surely it’s no
accident I’m drawn
to a figure in the road

in a yellow raincoat
it’s manufactured
centers all vision

it says don’t kill me
in the rain I trust you
this means something to us

this figure makes me
up then there is a problem
left untended

I push the image forward with cars
more rain rowhouses
electric reds blues

associate it with work
there it was
and not knowing itself

I imagine
a person
the black sign

inside a raincoat
I watch them as they move

through falling water
as the narrative spills
as it fails

to show myself
the one object of my desire
inside the coat

it’s yellow then
I cannot see a face
the face is so under

and I was paranoid then
thinking how it would
be me in that situation

against the cars
in yellow and black
produced by the situation they anticipate

Issue 14