05 Trevor Kildiszew

Trevor Kildiszew-Sikorski

Living isadrag

  after a conversation

Shirtless marathoners phantom past 
The window where everything loses 
Where evening tosses wet hair  
Over the backs of the sofa cushions 
& the final squib of sunlight 
Capsizes the offices 
As night shrinks down  
To some plasticky hot 
Pink ribbon impinged to my neighbor’s
Eaves upon a nailgunned nail 
What do I call it? Visited-by & dainty?
Piercing tongue that text messages I am
The meat-eating translator of memory
God must convince to become Meryl Streep ?
Even my guilt is tired 
A pink bra strap, I slink on 
Then off again god’s shoulder a little
Little. Each skin mine 
A little more.  
Petting the ventricles of the smooth myth
I haven’t yet made of myself. Today, I am trying 
On breathing, today, today, through 
This window