Notes on ContinuationMichael Gross
Assembly required: I want all the bulbs in the room to work as well as a window.
Trisect: The bird’s head moves much like I imagine mine would if mirrors were see-through.
Burying bulbs: Registration is required at the entrance of vision: one is next, the other once.
Sung low: That satellite makes me think of entering atmospheres in flames: the orange dangle of
Broadsided: Trees topple tip-side last: roots-down let go, me holding the dirt he lowered in.
Visions & a bird: Slashing the tires into little leeches, sucking the curb and asphalt for more
answers to questions.
Predated: The most impossible move, the owl reaches into the grass like I my pocket, and pulls out
Forts & showdowns: Saddlebags slump the back of the mare, snowing peaks jaw the mouse’s red
Foreordained: A tremendous blow renders the head a hundred apples tossed and staying: an
orchard of memories.
After addiction: Slams the door, swallows the key, hangs a bag, climbs a vine, tramples the sore,
and stitches hands to dicks.
The mouse of memory: A sandal means there is no use for this anymore, and she lays in bed
crooning for bipeds.
The guns stop: Stomping on the grave, a gust of me snaps a tree's branch into toothpicks among
the toothy stones.
Keys to the leeches: A bee on the forehead: thoughts swimming to a finger-press on the fish tank.
Saddlebags in the hips slump across the steering wheel and a stroke of family crosses lanes:
Satellite beaming: He is looking bashful, full of innuendoes and prophecies: the times we
summered in the winter.
The finale, orchestrated by: The opaque apples of sound slim into a blue, a frame, and further yet,
This Is a Woman
Excerpt from Crocodile: Memoirs
From a Mexican Drug-Running Port
Five Scenes from Six and Renaldo
The Music Inside
The Ear as Rifle
Tania Van Winkle
Arriving in New York for My Grandfather’s Funeral
Notes on Summer
Notes on Continuation
Spanking Without a Cause
You Are Here
Brother and Sister
The Ugly Duckling