Transport Poem
I love this poem…
TRANSPORT POEM
Ange Mlinko
Like eating egg salad in the exhaust,
eating slowly.
Lowly birds like one side of a sandwich,
shunted like autumn leaves like dragons
on stilts at any approach.
Like nicotine patches like stained brick of storms.
Like blowdrying the roofs. Like extracting the heat
from headlights. Like namedrop towns
in the mountains.
Like reins dropping and a carriage stops.
Like standing in a clearing at night like
orange cones reflecting back.
Like a façade covered with a snow of sunset
likes a massif covered in thorny serifs.
Like opening the door like turning a page,
like asking “Where is the book-size life?”
where is the outside? Like I am likened to a girl,
is the book about where I took it to, a field guide?
