CONTROL TOWER
︎︎︎ Adam Stutz
︎ May 27, 2023
From the bedroom window I open these flags & rise for no one
The clatter is wall-to-wall coverage of my special-effects disaster
breath measures expiration until my ideology evaporates
All my down-wind utterances turn into an up-town smoke of confusion
(or maybe justification) mixed takes fester into a spill
So I write-up obscurity into line items:
1) severed wing sings on sidewalk for its sibling
2) starving coyote stalks picnics for hashtags
3) sirens splits silence into a bomb of selfies
4) teeth grind down to a chapel made of sand
I’m back to an eye of needles hanging by a thread in white noise
All I aspire to is a security blanket for air traffic control
The clatter is wall-to-wall coverage of my special-effects disaster
breath measures expiration until my ideology evaporates
All my down-wind utterances turn into an up-town smoke of confusion
(or maybe justification) mixed takes fester into a spill
So I write-up obscurity into line items:
1) severed wing sings on sidewalk for its sibling
2) starving coyote stalks picnics for hashtags
3) sirens splits silence into a bomb of selfies
4) teeth grind down to a chapel made of sand
I’m back to an eye of needles hanging by a thread in white noise
All I aspire to is a security blanket for air traffic control
Adam Stutz is the Editor-in-Chief and Publisher of Broken Lens Journal and the author of Transcript (Cooper Dillon Books, 2017) and The Scales (White Stag Publishing, 2018). His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Prelude, Be About It, Deluge, Dum Dum Zine, The Pinch, Where is the River, Dream Pop, Cover, Ghost Proposal, INKSOUNDS, Only Good Poems, Heavy Feather Review, and can be found at stutzwrites.com. He currently resides in Los Angeles, California.
Also by Adam: SINKING, SEEDLINGS