Anesthesia — Hillary Gravendyk
Prepped by strangers, I
counted backwards
into a storm,
the eye shuttered against
the tumult, the mouth
slapped open by rain.
Heard a plucked sound
circling itself
chirrup of mechanized insects
their practical violence
saved for me. My body
humming like a hologram
struck from the air,
I picked up a brick
light as lava rock and, blurred
with dreaming, the eye fell
over a book of impossible acts
completing themselves.
