you put the abra in lab rat.
Appoint a green snowsuit
to sort out illegal downloading.
A specter is haunting communism.
I think the lake reminds me of a wafer
bottled in Arkansas & shipped
with maple porn.
Left Behind to certify the velcro of small things
antlers in our milk, the hen
that guesses our weight
the hen that stamps our names on tin bands
Management of Widow Burning,
or, The Cultural Logic of Late Creationism.
You cant smoke in here, this is America.
A good police will patent a lint barrow.
When you fix it in a field of filthy x rays
one girls ankle monitor is
sad as another.
for Matthea Harvey
[Things I may no longer bring on airplanes:]
Things I may no longer bring on airplanes:
This spleen & idyll is legally a star.
Let us stockpile rupturewort & eryngo
in the unlikely event of water landing.
that is sullied melts into flesh.
the original HTML.
will I open my box on the airplane??
I saw a bat another bat
& two batlike swifts
that mightve been bats.
I mean that literally.
I mean literally
Made like a moving picture
not about things but withbonny a machinist as pleases.
mean I have real hair to transfer
have moths to gale. Say it, us
that tiny, tinsel-mote October
revolutions, belly-belly barometric span.
Sure, sad stories I love to leave where they lie.
For who can sing so softly heroes from their stupid tombs?
Didnt I know all this in the version where your negotiations
it is simply astounding to see an animal dead on a highway
were nonnegotiable? No one if you lift the rain
from the bucket & fling it back into the sky says
hey its raining again
little perhaps nothing
is known about boats.
I was never bitten
by a radioactive pony.
I believe we lack
a public health system
The worlds tallest freestanding smokestack
is in Sudbury, Ontario.
Lights at the top make it
scrutable to aircraft.
Were waiting to de-fern.
Uplink with the Candied Piety
Filament the trash-fish trade
Your spinal melodies comfort
Tried to use the spoon but the spoon
It wants its robot raspberries back
Tried on neon, neon
& xanadus from the fever archive
Remix the minesweepers tiny sex
Thus you no-man-fathom, pee-shy
Braving the salad to saturate
The religious lefts turntablist
Printed our t-shirts in narrow daylight
Like an odometer you sundered valentines
Fire-static limbered your ambit
You were weirded by an old box of receipts
Purple numbers italicizing trees
Michael Robbins is a PhD student in the English
program at the University of Chicago and teaches poetry at Columbia
College and is an associate editor of Chicago Review. His work (poems
& reviews) has appeared in LIT, Tinfish, Boston
Review, Court Green, Phoebe and the Chicago