My Heart Cries out for Obstruction – Nathaniel Mackey

my twitching fingers know the air’s too thin
to climb or weave, my feet reluctant to leave the floor
but town is closing soon and the highway needs its quota

you can only buy so much time without worrying where to put it
exchanging interest for growth, an unstable stillness
the momentum of a sentence untethered by breath
my lungs steadily changing pages, uncertain

something yeasted then forgotten
a fermented state of mind stoppered with cheekbones
hesitation reduced to lard, rendering in charcoal squid blood
and tar sands the inevitability of stars, more error than margin
too much space for a line, too much rumble for a bag

keys keep turning in my pocket but nothing ignites
my deodorant smells like gasoline, my mouthwash
from a forgotten river, no industry without dust,
no progress without rogues, out of the blue and into the grey

always leave a couple spoonfuls for the next meal
if the knife’s not used for cooking something else will be cut
on Thursdays, the cooks pick the music and the plates are glad
to wash themselves, my appetite’s in a minor key

when my earworm is a bass jam i was playing last night
while the garlic i smell from the kitchen won’t be peeled and chopped
for a couple hours, on the brink of an almost lethal brilliance
eyes cropping what the windows allege, a 20-foot shadow
rolls slowly down my street looking for an address