Street-Cooked Faults

Your arms
are thin,
stretched and tight –
bandaged filth,
submerged from light,
I see your skin –
and smell
the wounds –
the tracks of
speed –
the blurred trains
and broken rocks –
winks and snorts,
tastes of touch –
I saw them haul
you off,
to rooms
dug low,
neck to neck,
high-straps with
geologic faults.

2010 Barry Comer


About Barry Comer

I volunteer as a design and communications consultant with Family Scholar House in Louisville, Kentucky, the Democratic Socialists of America and teach children with emotional and developmental disabilities. I have degrees in art and was an art director for 30 years.
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