Maxwell Rabb

and the August sun is quiet

beneath the heat and speed of Nevada

i trace silhouettes of audible mountains

a vestige
where
the geometrician steals my iron spine

 
beetles scrambling

magnified consonants
spiked by hard sand

a gambling swarm
ignored mumbling laughter

spillover noxious language

insect voices yell complicated double knots

i cut prayers for a stoccato god

scalding pedestrians
shut their blinds

paused suffocated by living room edges

hollow cymbal

familiar smokescreen noises

i am wide awake two stink bugs nauseating

release steam above decorative porcelain

bounty fine fabric of raincoats

strangled by mildewy smells for three days–

 
my blurry radar is showing stones
flattened by the sea salt burden—

vowels to be notated

 
cutting the lawn
is a neighborhood tremor–

 
play rotted bones at dulcet frequencies,

and the fake grass is an irreducible obstruction

next to fallen half-cuttings from dogwoods

i picket the granular bone into fresh sod–

stress pathology of sewer flows
as an ocean depth synchronizes on a green diamond

i am ditched at the colossus

barnacle lining grafted fields
this grass-sized muted siren is flayed by a monolithic voice

as oil pools in the base of the frame

 
 
 
i paint a picture of a bull on the ceiling
and there is not enough in the pocket of a giant–

talons of antholites bounce sour sounds
hear
segments of blank space
nestle beneath molting wood sorrels

 
wrought wasps move frenetically collapsed by vacuum

 
 
submerged by the flood of sun rays scorching leather chair

open curtains— shredded

the immutable geometer is killed by his enamel coat

and this rotted obstacle closes

 
i place dynamite on the counter with plaster birds–

of kinetic departures— a trash fugue

curtailed plastics pile up by middle June
weaving against suffocating living rooms

i am poisoned by its asthenic furnitures–

 

 
or a heavy foulness,
anabatic by a multitude of herbs

my words
unfurled
by a ballet

collecting aerial mint tulips, i am staring
into the sun’s mirror

 
phases road blocks
of terror traffic

painting

a splintered geometry

pray to weaved
jams
and fragrance vapor

acid bath

unmetallic
spoiled saint parades a silent February
by dancing jokes
crumpled harmonies

i navigate a bismuth garden,
carved into an unconsulted Oklahoma

wisteria sensitive to a cataract whistle
my skin is beginning to break off

convergences of rich blooms
disassembled
by page length creases

melting point to stale winters
curved to massive appearances of unfamiliar insects

i live drowsy on heated flatlands
and the geometrician practices

a routine of seeing double—

☉