I Want To Be The Ghost Of Myself

a brave bulk of fisherman now
receding down some ugly franchise
and i without a tributary
tendrils of paper and missing things

someone says the name Tom Cruise 75 times
into a dimly lit microwave
maybe we can shape nouns this way
by cutting the small of the back in twain

Around the blind brothers
the harmony of lord in their throats

O blind boy acne of my youth
a fog of birds
the cotton of my floor
against my ugly face

please be
calm
to me

look into those squares
connecting into other squares
by morning the boxes and squares
look over there

square
turning in here
square into square
turning here

and tide of squares
flexing within
throats of others

swallow bent water and float how
i did that
looking at my dad in a clam shell