prose poems by Mark Cunningham | ||
Green |
Rain light. Or tornado sky. This acts as a hypnotic on the sympathetic nervous system. Pus. A green room eases the change from one state to another. Mold. As a child, Tolstoy believed that a green stick buried in a ravine near his family's home had the secret of happiness scratched on it. Now his bones lie near that ravine. But you? In color Doppler echocardiographs, fast-moving blood glows green. When you stand among trees and close your eyes, it's easy to imagine you hear an engine running. Usually there is one.
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number 21 in the 2River Chapbook Series | Color Field • Contents • Chapbook Archives • 2River |