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please advise stop [I might travel his death a creaking and swaying beneath me stop]

Rusty Morrison

I might travel his death a creaking and swaying beneath me stop
there are static expressions freed now and passing along the walls stop
an object isn’t what is hidden but what smiles out from the hiding please

with only the slightest effort I might abandon every father stop
or read them all cover to cover please
eyes turn like the telling of stories first inward then out stop

the next page wasn't the kind of listening I wanted but it was all I was offered stop
to reveal as in the Latin re- plus velum meaning veil stop
the thought of him still everywhere only a new place to hide please advise

From the true keeps calm biding its story by Rusty Morrison. Copyright © 2008 by Rusty Morrioson. Used by permission of Ahsahta Press.

From the true keeps calm biding its story by Rusty Morrison. Copyright © 2008 by Rusty Morrioson. Used by permission of Ahsahta Press.

Rusty Morrison

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like water in water —George Bataille




Eggs, transparent and sometimes red-veined as insect wings, might be hidden
in bark crevices 

or a scatter of tawny leaves.

The distance between one gestation and the next, a pleat of the dress I wear 
carelessly
poem

No sensation of falling, which suggests that this condition may be flight.

My eyes might be open or not. My coffee poured into a cup or

onto the countertop. This, a ball of saved rubberbands or the thick clot of tremors

I usually keep deep in the drawer that I can trust will stick

when I