raft of birds
by shon toney

floating down a river of okra
on a raft i salvaged out of
dysfunctional birds with the flu

the earth is my imaginary friend

i am the stomach growl
where some sort of organ of conscious should have been

i am adrift on the tiny chip on her shoulder

her vagina is a giant canyon shaped
like a magician’s top hat

gravity guides us past smiling gravestones
into the currents just off the edge
that jet into open space

everything that ends begins here

in this free for all fall

a raft of birds makes a poor kite

i am
what i feel
is

air

next time i close my eyes
i really will