HoboEye Poetry:
Sara Mumolo, Oakland, California, USA

I DON’T KNOW HOW TO NAVIGATE THIS

I assemble the quay
forget to call off the ceremony
Where is the wrist with the pulse I am to lick?

Days knead     as our minutes
wear a human sail     if your sex were
a money wave: I froth at my decision

I knew          you were looking
as looking turns unnatural     as natural
bends                you tender a weightless

envelope of choices
in it paranoia        not unnatural         compares
to the pregnancy of rows      harboring morning

blinds              their telescopes      I am a sight from
amassing the quay                  knew you were
looking         for all the paper boats of money

once made     when I stuck them between
my toes     lit them          match crack
spreading toes                 match crack            

armadas float                         embers
knifing debris               for any dollar
I might resurrect from the current

Shards flounder my blouse
Hello     you appear      a canary’s cage
drips     sways from your grip—

hello     here is a call to your response:
There is a gate around that tree
and no one home to water the bird



TO TOP >