Inside your arm a rope…

Inside your arm a rope
though the road you hide
is lifted by hills – the sleeve

rolled back the way all curves
return as if nothing happened
pull alongside, surrounded

no longer airborne
let you splash among the turns
poured over your fingers

trying to squeeze from the sky
the color circling overhead
as darkness and engine sound

strapping you in
filling your hands with noise
black from a single fingernail

pointing at the ground
still afraid to move
while you rush about

with the headlights off
broken as if you remembered
where to look now that the car

is in someone else’s name
a fake address and your only chance
is without a day in mind.

Simon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review, Forge, Poetry, Osiris, The New Yorker and elsewhere. His most recent collection is The B Poems, published by Poets Wear Prada, 2016. For more information, including free e-books and his essay titled “Magic, Illusion and Other Realities”, please visit his website at http://www.simonperchik.com.

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