Cody Todd Poems

 

 

 

Broken Syntax for the Streets of Economy

 

Nobody feels it moving into the chest;
 
only what we see:
the relationship between
the vanished and responsibility;
 
contact seems ground
to locomotion: radio, television,
habitual coverage
of skies falling…
 
this anthem rings like a telephone
removed from its hook—
 
economy—
a paste poured across the way;
street lights
left hanging,
 
illumination no longer, but
parcels of permanent darkness
on street corners;
 
what of the fear?
 
what if we all prayed, including you,
for immobility?
 
there is the supernova
within: sweet nectar
approaching outward, waiting idly;
 
I stood where
I stood looking out while
praying the sea didn't begin
where it ended,
praying
            that night wasn't disease
or gift—
 
buildings that remain: baby's fists
            to greet the floating hours;
 
            my song, narrating
the plight of a pugilist;
            swearing that I knew you, I'd
known you all along…
 
but never naïve, you and I
could not, cannot tell
 
the difference between chasing
            the aroma
of colors, and blood
            not chasing anything

 

 

**

 

 

Cody Todd is the author of To Frankenstein, My Father (2007, Proem Press). He has work forthcoming in Faultline, Hunger Mountain, The New Delta Review, and Bat City Review. Other work has appeared in The Pebble Lake Review, Grist, Harpur Palate, Salt Hill, Third Coast, and elsewhere. He received an MFA from Western Michigan University and is currently a Virginia Middleton Fellow in the PhD program in Literature/Creative Writing at the University of Southern California.

 

 

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