Dig

Dig


1.
DIG


Use your eyes like shovels, dig through the smog, the muck
in your head and see the mountains beyond the skyscrapers.

Something is rising like bread within you, but the slightest noise...

Get to high ground, ford the rivers of traffic and if your feet should get wet,
just remove your socks before the ice joins your skin
and you lose all feeling for walking or balance.

There is a type of tree they say cries. There is a frog freezes solid
in winter. There is a bird mimics the sound of cell phones. Even you
can recognize this. Let that bit inside you that grows trail out
of your eyeholes. Dribble it down in front of you, and follow it
to something more than made.



2.
Use your eyes like shovels,
dig through the smog, the muck
in your head and see the mountains beyond
the skyscrapers.

Something is rising like bread within you,
but the slightest noise...

Get to high ground, ford the rivers
of traffic and if your feet should
get wet, just remove your socks
before the ice joins your skin and you
lose all feeling for walking or balance.

There is a type of tree they say cries.
There is a frog freezes solid in winter.
There is a bird mimics the sound
of cell phones. Even you
can recognize this. Let that bit inside you
that grows trail out

of your eyeholes. Dribble it down in front
of you, and follow it
to something more than made.



C.L. Bledsoe

Posted over on Pebble Lake Review
1. Cortney's prose poem.
2. Line breaks by Glenn Buttkus