A Bleeding Screen of Need
Where we once used words
we now send a swarm of electrons
buzzing across hyperreality, wood bees
aerial dogfighting in futile clumps
to simply say me me me
and mark an ever widening aura
of territory in the saturated
air; static grows thick
locked in mortal combat
for the numbers, the handshakes,
the fleeting flow of friends
across a bleeding screen of need,
careful not to fall off the flat edge
into the pit of the unknown—
a nobody who cannot conjure electrons
to save their life—a life is not a life
unless digitized and tossed upon
the flipping tides of lore
The Pieces Fail to Fit
Waiting for the kitchen to clean itself,
I pick up my old rubber band ball
and stretch a loop or two, massing
it into the bowling ball size range—
it takes a lot of loops to grow an inch,
but it’s just a matter of adding it all up;
another dozen bands makes another layer,
but the clock won’t stop,
and the kitchen won’t clean,
and this life won’t live itself,
or perhaps it will, but one day at a time
won’t satisfy a man who needs to shore up
some vague shelter against his end time,
pieces fallen outside the box and fit together
balanced by no real logic,
and the monument I make thus
is all the monument I’ve got
Salamander Tides
Leaky boats bob
with every tide;
any wave that rises
fills the shell.
Bailing, whether you
like it or not,
becomes the only
way to float
Logs pull together
as a raft, so dead trees
rise again, this time
to move free of land,
roots abandoned,
cast off like a rind,
like leaves,
like memories
of a time before
these floods
A salamander sheds his tail
to escape the dog,
slapping its muzzle
like a lick of shameful fire
smoking to conceal its flight
A multi-media artist living near Washington, DC, Jeff Bagato produces poetry and prose as well as electronic music and glitch video. He has published nineteen books, all available through the usual online markets, including And the Trillions (poetry) and The Toothpick Fairy (fiction). A blog about his writing and publishing efforts can be found at http://jeffbagato.com.