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Wood in the woodpile, everything
okay, last night I sang “Faithless
Love” out loud alone in the living
room. It’s a little trick I do, placing
some dreams back in sleeping on
these occasions. When I am glad,
I mean. When am I glad, and where
is the line? Sometimes you go out
and look at the world out there and
it seems as fresh as yourself. Who
was that, when I was young, who
carried me up a mountain in a small
backpack? I’m old as architecture.
I have no idea what it would be like
to get to feel like a little bit of
luggage now, here, where the air
is thin, here, on an imposing mass
of measure. Sympathy, sympathy,
long walks, strong wind, the old way
of playing so particular to all
the fish in the sea.

Seth Landman lives in Denver, Colorado and is part of the Agnes Fox Press collective. His book, Sign You Were Mistaken, will be out from Factory Hollow Press in 2012.

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