good morning! and goddamn you
know all about these things

car and road like water
on her teeth
or so the good mr olson once said let me
read it to you and here

falls apart the gods miss strike down these
humans still
running around my god it’s crazy
out here these products eventually

where’s my soul? the hunter
to slay the air an arrow draws two lines curved and flat a hill

the speed of the arrow both time and space we drive over
the hill a bullet and silence is nice and pleasant
let a moment rest there are mountains
in the background

carrying my body one last time

now the other side and oh
another one these are
sweet dreams

we exit the car and sit down at the wheel get out of here go with me
i ain’t scared for the car
to drive itself


these are days
so many people here
all crazy to choose
obedience what are we
to choose really

what other cities a boundary
slick the rain away
when it comes move it the distance

a few hours go by and a few hours go by
and they are everything good morning!

the lane
dividing markers are difficult
to see to be
better than dying

good morning! these are such sweet dreams
there is music in them look
in the mirror learn something from
the stones and dawn (good morning!)
let’s not talk of dreams any more

we speed up the hill we are
what now everyone knows

Andrew Wessels has lived in Houston, Cambridge, and Las Vegas. Currently, he splits his time between Istanbul and Los Angeles. His poems and translations can recently be found in or are forthcoming from VOLT, The Journal, Washington Square Review, Colorado Review, Grist, Handsome, Fact-Simile, and 580 Split. He is the editor of The Offending Adam.