Fukushima Forever
Dear Friend,
I am looking at the thorny geometry of your death
cities, of filial silence We climb the attic steps
in secret and lay there under the torn insulation,
More happy love More happy love
Who are we At first
the arrangement of our pants, cursive
Here are some thoughts with forest branches Some background when considering
my application for the development grant of radical transactions of seduction
I am lost in my price
The progress of physics is unsystematic unlike the samba he said in a surely you’re joking tone of voice The result being a series of firsts that seem to bring about the usual shoulder shrug seen after subsequent explosions This is sufficiently consolidated and entered constantly It assumes sometimes too easily that results are secure and the house advances, thereby laying itself
Open to further defenestration
The naked ape is counting money, the attic allows
A new generation appears and assumes the uncritical enthusiasm of youth
Doubts ease through the tentative gropings of the subway
Short-lived panting and warm foreheads Question,
Do you believe it’s possible that nostalgia would reorganize the civilian I feel
for you all the time
I will not catalogue the many horrors of this world that could be reduced or eliminated If it were embodied in the technologies that You know these troubles They are your carefully unrolled lungs, balanced You named them after the books on your mother’s shelf Come to think of it, I happen to be one of them We brassed every pair of boots placed in front of us
Fenestra Fenestra This is House Speaker chanting at each other over aperitifs
as they slowly back away in dynamic
antagonism I can see all of this through the ceiling
these objectives are mutually unafraid
and as a result
to convey something of
probity and fucking
when I’m not supposed to
I’ve learned all I can from sea stars
By chance you choose not
to look because you know nothing
can be seen, what’s possible and
what’s not Heard melodies are cloying,
those unheard are cloying,
and yes,
I think you agree with me
in advance
____________________
Fukushima Forever
I challenge children to silence his deathcity geometry,
I am lookingdearfriend
We are on the secret climbing We are the first whoceiling light, cursive on the plane
Safeandathome
Safefromthebourn
_____________________
_____________________
Brooke Ellsworth is author of the chapbook, Thrown (The New Megaphone 2014). She has poems in or forthcoming in Coconut, DIAGRAM, Artifice, The Volta and elsewhere. She lives in Queens, NY and teaches at Parsons.