Spaces
there’s weather today
but it’s gotten in static
in the anxious and
suspicious
commute
the predatory
territory
violence of demarcation
I get surprised by
the angles
of the sun
of voiceprint
intensity
of wavelength
as function
and frequency
of time
I woke up
and wanted to
find you and ask
what do you
think of today
or tomorrow
here I am
with
everyone
my teeth
slowly
chipping
away
there is always
someone else
to blame
inside the restless
sleep
I remember talking
but not
a word
of what I
said
I was a part of that
city
but I forget
the way rain
dissolves
neon
passing
beside
the insectine
power
station
past
the newest
news
the point is to erase you
at home
I drink down all my yields
I listen to my neighbor
talk on his phone
looping our
one-sided
forgetting
I reach down
what am I
looking for
on the floor
I’ve got no passwords
I’ve got nothing
to hide
it’s all there
anyway
maybe if I leave
the lights on
the house will flood with bright
and I can collect
my scattering amplitudes
then tomorrow
*
Sodium Lights
does today feel like a day to you
awake but then everything
still some kind of
people talking
then dissolving
people talking
coming through
all loud and static
white noise
burning like lanterns
a name dripping
from a mouth
in deltas
of flawless blood
and jubilee
fantasy of dilated time and access
the sunny void
a few more minutes of here
*
Hello
I always get lost here
I don’t remember exactly
I remember I was there
with time
running like a script
we drank sparklers
called it celebration
looked for glories
what does it take
to feel like that
like new
like always
when I was commanding fleets
when I was steeped in victory
these are secrets
I pay the fare
I am
now
and
then
I carry me again
into the morning
*
Wavelengths
“insist on your embrace,
double your fury,
create a space for damages”
-Alejandra Pizarnik
what is the weight of a garden
or a city
what is our labor
our architecture
—
what is the price
who pays
the unit of the day
—
who could you be
without debt
without context
who will you be next season
inside the pace
inside the disembodied
palace and kingdom
—
I’d like to carve out an ocean
to remember our cells
once knew jellyfish
—
I look up from years
and find only minutes
the radio playing crickets
**
ROBERT BALUN is an adjunct at The City College of New York, where he teaches creative writing and composition. His poems have recently appeared in Prelude, Barrow Street, Poor Claudia, Apogee, Cosmonauts Avenue, and others.
