4th Poem by Gillian Conoley

of July

bagpipes big mad Hitchcockian crows


siren families striding hurrying


want a whole lot of love sings the Joplin


mimic white birch willow swings pollen


the cars in shade



way way down gonna give you my love



staying in the house

the crows outside are winning

car door a muffled crowd gasp wheels at the top of the sky


and waits

the night sky's visuals

called 'Untamed Retribution' and 'Rain Fire'

an objective sincerity the war does not space itself

two teenage girls at the screen with the sun in their eyes



all day time takes

all the time bright canisters in the culverts girls read

hills of it

day-long trash truck heads down our street

what a big

engine emergency brake

distance between telephone pole and queen palm's trunk

smoke loops from back of the house to front

leaves no signet in cloud sidewalk's scalding path

'neath county's ripe

corn table

globe's eggshell



for romance the girls layer their tears back into their skin


many dawns the boys waving

bends

air crosses clouds in hot nets

increasing the local tenor's uprightness


fumes exhume

the crowd stands open-mouthed

heads lifted



you
you
you
you
you
and
you
send me

smoke falls through each head of hair

to each ear's

size and limit

love



sound-chamber'd


moon's



far off


place