Maxwell Gontarek

From RAPIDES

It is that I want to let myself
To abstract myself, as a subject, from the world of making

Distant hem of clouds
Gamma sedan of enduring loves

Moules-frites
        w/ her wild eyes
My kid to extinguish

The pavement got lost this morning
In the fields
        where the cornflowers sang
        where the nightingales bloomed
        where blah blah blah
        were at the disposal of quant

My kid is this our life is it finished
It seems empty to us and yet immediately full

I feel someone else’s blood flowing in my hands
Someone’s else’s experience in my uncertain

Slab
The month that is not over
        that night poisons like it poisons itself, delighting
        in the snow