the risk of love
is more love
hate is a globularia
hate is mass amorphous
ever growing golden ratio
worshipping henna spiralled shells
and disembodied hands holding
hands in a plato-deprived
cave in the dark
growing distaff of hurricane
spun window tape the
world is light bent
and warbling to bits
torrent of chance chances
puzzle on the floor
love is small and
breaking off that's it
love is missing piece small
even(ing)
when in every dream
i am william cutting
five points bill the
butcher cursing or fighting
american eagle false eye
controlling every other move
like a star trek
ceti eel larvae and
i wish daniel crocker
was here to put
it (all) in a poem
and save me between
fits of lost control
panic mania hurricane eyelids
man's inhumanity to sleep
and again to man
what can you say happiness
when life is so hard
today i saw a bright
green and yellow moth i
would have written chartreuse or
strega filled waterford stemware and
gone back to habits but
i am trying frantically to
leave the writer at home
out of this poem forever
and not lie about the
orange brown glow of ancient
forests i have never seen
what can you say to
our pain the stars the
moon the sun so abstract
and pilloried here yet each
pulls on our blood dragging
tracers of light stretching time
and space bending the sky
like blue marbles waffle cones
your favourite gelato a scoop
of a lost friend's delicately
attenuated voice waiting on the
last moment to call breaking
the longest minute in the
centre of the darkest hour
of your life i am
also maybe a suffocating thing
to see that and activate
chance you must be here
bright as a song bright
as a pink flower bright
as a finger raised and
wagging against the last bully
bright torch perilously lit
malachite butterfly after dusk what
can i say to you/happiness
today, i can say i am
"Gabriel's Horn is a geometric figure which has infinite surface area but finite volume"
reach me
there is perfect
sex in the
bubble surrounding two
people the moment
before they touch
when only imagination
has felt the
unevenness of begun
first by flattened
hand or finger
tip blue note
the room is
emptying for you
hint at rushing
hint at sojourn
hint at hint
so obvious a
parable could see
the uselessness in
heaven's only paper
clouds you shudder
gabriel the horn
Paul Koniecki lives and writes in Dallas, Texas. He was once chosen for the John Ashbery Home School Residency. His poems feature in Richard Bailey’s movie “One of the Rough” distributed by AVIFF Cannes. His books are available from Kleft Jaw Press, Night Ballet Press, Dark Particle Press, and Spartan Press. Paul proudly sits on the editorial board of Thimble Literary Magazine.
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