Sy Brand

Blurred Photograph of my Day at the Beach

I run through the day’s fingers, again,
again sandlike, dry (forgot to fill
my glass, again) gaining nothing
through waves out of sync,
stilted thoughts set to smash
against the shore, again,
soothe me with seashells,
pour me some calm,
bargain with hormones
‘till the day runs me by.

Hairy Legs

Web reflection imperfect, spin
for your audience (spiderwalk spiderrun),
scuttle under foot arches, carry heels
on your shoulders, tiny Atlas,
face the lights, squint with
all your doeful eyes and dangle,
watch claps snap your thread
and fall, flycatcher, break
a leg in stagefright,
but don’t let them get you,
little darling,
everyone has to run sometimes.

Bombardier Bloodshed

Bombardier bloodshed,
pew pew bwaaaasplshhh,
hormone halberds
ineffectual, losing ground
and body and arms and legs claimed
by force unknown,
colonialist clash painting
the map for phobia,
written into bones,
bones mashed to air,
air bending the backs
of the dry dry grass, breaking
spines claimed by forces known,
knowledge written in negatives
amidst the bombardier bloodshed.