Taylor Brady & Rob Halpern
Snow Sensitive Skin
$10

 

— territory bands —

 

Articulate it must be consonant
Glottal and rasp to which
Nothing will reduce but sounds

Out as sounding of
An out the open exit blows
In turbulence to spit cross-purpose

At elegy along the brazen
Curved reflection where metal
Body parts air amative

Caresses of the tongue
Antagonize to wetness F-16s
Condensed in sweat of those

Who scratch dirt down to liquid
Assets for the air’s dry suck to hail
Back down as deaths

The instrument declines to count

 

 

— snow sonnet —

 

So there’s no more to arrange no sound
To sing returns the distance to our song
Decrees no proper names become poems
By force we’re sliding back into time no

Command mouths these things that don’t
Count we’ve born no issue nothing comes
Back from the tape the radio recorded us
Holding hands in one another’s dusty ruts

Given no static voice whose shape our body
Equals nothing in this general issue weighs
What our empty bag proposes blooms no
Shelter and stinks of sweat theft bloody

As any free-minded broadcast fills arranges
The sky brings us here to tape these parts

                        — together