Or a name for the insignificant
\na mark for the in between
\nI come bearing whispers<\/p>\n
Or we enter through the neck
\na note of pinging glass
\nthe shunt of waves<\/p>\n
Or a precise day inside a forest
\na cloud on the back side of paint
\nwe sail through the chunky house<\/p>\n
Or my bottle shoveled out of hand
\nheld swinging by a giant thigh
\na stately walk through sturdy phlox<\/p>\n
Or fields of lavender
\nsweet cushions of distance
\na drink of pure survival
\n ___<\/p>\n
It was a time in the story when bicycles were popular and low to the ground. Men rode
\nthem without injury, although one day a man pointed at her like a prophet and reminded
\nher that disaster was on its way and she better watch out. \u201cYou people,\u201d he said, \u201cdon\u2019t
\nsee it coming.\u201d \u201cYou people?\u201d she said. And he pedaled away furiously. \u201cYou mean, like
\npedestrians?\u201d she called after him.
\n ___<\/p>\n
Armed with paddles and shanks bought from a 10-year-old carver of knives and his
\nbrother at the farmers market this morning I thought these are the princes of the future
\nwho know how to do with and without no matter who will chase down the man on the
\nbicycle here now armed with metal and wood fleeing (all the known world will emerge
\nfrom a farm near Monticello) shank boys swimming into preparations for what is less
\nthan a year away and so what if our minds fall away into fog and her that excellent
\ncreator curls into a density of knots I spent a night turning loved into a living river where
\nboats still sail to placate my fears armed with what would not be whole armed with the
\nbrains of banishment together we will chase down the bicyclist on contraptions of our
\nown in mighty ritual
\n ___<\/p>\n
Or he<\/p>\n
pedals away swarmed
\nand shoeless<\/p>\n
sings behind
\nher back or she<\/p>\n
banishes him: Leave,
\nold friend! He peace-<\/p>\n
signs her or
\nshe holds him<\/p>\n
lovingly\u2014fog
\nliving on the river<\/p>\n
Or a name for the insignificant a mark for the in between I come bearing whispers Or we enter through the neck a note of pinging glass the shunt of waves Or a precise day inside a forest a cloud on the back side of paint we sail through the chunky house Or my bottle […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":22,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false},"categories":[16],"tags":[25],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6Jypy-1JE","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6674"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/22"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6674"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6674\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10084,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6674\/revisions\/10084"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6674"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6674"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp0.vanderbilt.edu\/nashvillereview\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6674"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}