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The Elephants

Years of Blinding Tarps: Artifacts From Life With a Death Poet

Marco Maisto


Polaroid at The New Pioneer Co-op

I have pushed
solid staccatos
from my mouth
out the window
down onto
pixelated Midwestern sidewalks
dressed up in birds
challenged by arcade chemicals
that demanded
more self-possession
than I came here

grafted-to
look really close

He’s holding a postcard,
reads: Towel warmed on oven door to
not-freeze.
I homecome more complicated.
This will take time.



45. comic book
46. incense diction
47. parasol
48. milk tea
50. your elbows
51. my elbows
52. heroin






9. werewolf
10. memory-gum
11. scrimshaw
12. ships hey there ships
13. your home invasion
14. my home invasion
15. heroin



Audition

1.

The model showed signs of strain and was altogether restless.


We detoured for reasons more-than and
you bought a hat. Really

the town
was just a strip this town
was just one long ribbon,
and it had this town had
very little for us

in it.

Reclaimable barn. Mental map.
Invisible spoon. Omega man.


It’s all
getting smaller
in the rearview.

2.

Headless horseman.
Cardamom. Burning leaves.
Apple cannon.


We drive into the afternoon’s blinding tarp.
Landscape flattened

by the sky’s own uppercut.

Mixed media. Cinnamon yarns. Blind eye:
Hat that unravels your color break.

Blinking telegraphy.
The valley is a pure black hole.

This is a really rather very long road.

3.

Common thrush. Stewart’s
Fountain. Parachute.
Amphetamine.


You talk until the dairy farms
are double-exposed you talk
until the pasture is a pure crystal you talk until
a horse farm is a kind of gun show you
talk into your hands like they’re my face
you talk about how

there is a rogue planet. ok.
flickering out of phase. ok.

with ours. ok.

In. Within. Around.
Words that commonly fail you and I

All burry, I
failure us
in a periphery.

4.

Table and abandoned windows
and table and abandoned windows.

Conversation at the mineral stratum:

We should move from here and move far.

In the broadest sense it’s a question in the
broadest sense something just clicks in the broadest sense
there’s a white haunted house in it in the broadest sense
things get stereoscopic in the
morning things would be different. It was the morning. It will be the morning.


88. roomba
89. yo-yo
90. fingerprint
91. bruises
92. my death poet
93. your death poet
95. heroin heroin heroin



VHS and Ultimate Nullifier

I have best-friended
skypinned
masked men and women
heavy, heavy
 shadows
at the purple hour

still, I harbor—
in all this farmland—
deep-sea creature plans for you.

(summertime negative zone. opioid nights.)

 I loop
APOCALYPSE NOW
 fr six days
on a snowblind television
 where my
head& face&
future&
futures
used to be

Based in New York City, Marco Maisto is the author of Traces of a Fifth Column, the winner of the 2016 Hillary Gravendyk National Prize from Inlandia Books. His work has appeared in Drunken Boat, Colorado Review, Electric Literature, small po[r]tions and other journals. More at http://www.marcomaisto.com/

This originally appeared on October 11, 2017