“when the moon is fake and your mermaids cry” copyright ziggy zagmyer
too much factory district, too much winter bus stop
too much rent and paper-thin paycheck
too many scrap metal scars
too much heart in my chest pinching lungs in half
too much gray landscape on the surface of my eyes
too many holes in my jeans
too much is too much and she comes to me
like something out of a jukebox
a renaissance
and i wash away in headsong
her arms
are long
like rope, so i climb up to her atmosphere, copacetic blue
a million cartoon parachutes
her face
is calm
always april, shelter from angry storms, and i fall asleep on her cheek
her heart
feels solved
like a vase, open ended vessel
woman shaped wishing well
her thoughts
are time machines, rosary beads, wind hitting a wind chime
with accidental pleasure
and she says to me
if the world is an actor then the actor is a villain and the strings
of this machine need oil and ambition and the stage is a mirror
for the hero in our heads complicated symbols flashlights for weapons
trick coins and sharp pencils, if the world is an actor
then the actor is a villain
she says
go deep
if it soothes
smooths
sink to the bottom of real
unaware
one eye flashing hazard lights, one eye filled with shadow fish
exhale and evolve
love will remember your name, skip stones across the water
trails to lead you back home
somewhere
pastries fall off the back of a bakery truck
and the ravens dive in
somewhere, a mangy black dog enjoys a brown leather shoe
somewhere, a cross-eyed comet makes lopsided circles
around a dizzy star
somewhere, a photograph unfolds
faded
fingers tracing the silver shapes
hitting strings until a symphony explodes
loader than a bus driver’s battle cry:
hey
you getting on or what?
jalopy dreams 