shadowing the course coming home / cycle of entertainment
critical reasoning flung from all of three floors
from the rafters comes a sound / oil Phil Guston arm reaches through the open window scraping each wall edge & its skin clicks with a thumbs up the TV on every screen in the apartment / dilating syncopated motion, blare spaceship wrestling, trapdoor phonics / has by now clicked the stoves on as well, the microwave, eggs begin falling from the fridge door in half-dozen peals; the utensils, the shit drawer, posters held by an Oreo magnet all go furious at the edge of gravity’s beckon / when I was younger I took solitude to mean nonexistence but now the apartment's drowning in it, me a marble stain on new sheen floors so glossed up you could lick / Captain Falcon bears down a tough .2 second loss to a frog and the motel art you brought in from the trash lights up & directs a path for the arm down a sunsetted highway desert on one side, cliffs to brutal sea on the other / Captain Crunch peers down with human eyes / arm dripping potential motion & oil arm paint browning the floors, ruining the shot glasses / Michael & Dwight in a nightclub, Jim & Pam getting married & the burrito gas and all the future transmissions we'll emit out our own bodies as radio waves tremble for a suspended moment, clashing with the carpets, reflecting the screens, and fall, more than the arm could bundle up in one thick motion, more than any TV season paying deference to linear time, or nights in other rooms, more than adorning the course, complex bargains for the stale air, crafting skin-encrusted bodies, our own, to withstand night; more than ellipses—the shape or the grammar—could bear, more like a drone to which we ascribe glosses, notes / flee that maximal benediction and turn our chaos over to rust.
Teo Rivera-Dundas co-edits killing fields journal and makes loud music with the band Dominant Culture. His work can be found or is forthcoming in Dryland Lit, Enclave and ICHNOS.