Another pleasant day, a primary one, a holdfast against storms.
Knife collector, sword sharpener, he is listening to a radio
between stations – no voices, or all the voices at once.

The crackling might be due to a leaking capacitor,
or it might be static from that time I drove a car
into a bridge abutment at eighty miles per hour.

Get off me now
I am infinitely tired of reliving those things
those things that made everything collapse.
A skull fracture happened only to me in a time
of only youth, exuberance, and only love

I’ve been brittle and static for too long
with the ghost of an anvil on my back
and voices embarking on trains
to stations and between stations.

Leave your station at any time
pretend to ignore me
flirt with all the others on the platform.
Drive the spear while my/your attention is elsewhere.