6.14.23
Have forgotten
streetnames in my private registers
because I’ve secreted a man into my breathing
axis & its hitched I’m hitching on
a glint of silver studs warm in a winter morning
red tangle of beard stable seize of hands
they force the flow of coming days
what is possible
without torque?
To wrench back
belonging to
surrounding fields
difference between held
& enthralled over
bearing & born
over & over the sounds
of loose change
changing hands
2.41mi | 23:43
Phil Spotswood is a poet from Alabama, and a PhD Creative Writing candidate at Illinois State University. His most recent work can be found in Berkeley Poetry Review, Always Crashing, and Dreginald. He is a poetry reader for Spoon River Poetry Review, and Senior Editorial Assistant for Obsidian.