Auto Dialogue
The traffic controller in me signals
other cars on the freeway
merge, increase following distance
other threads connect me
to creaks and nerve endings
in the house
a spider tuned to vibrations in the web
I try to keep up with the moon
trains prowling along the river
when thunder shakes the windows
I could ask night to open its sleeve
through the storm
I dreamed of a friend’s tumor
its tendrils growing
if I could only flick a switch
if only smash a shell and scatter it to the wind
trees remained standing
after the wind triggered
rotating echoes on WCCO’s Doppler
two miles north after everything went black
gutters stopped directing the rain
the cirrus was concrete
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