p
o
e
m
s

O capacious room,
give me your tongues.

I’m done with being self-
possessed. Take hold, turn

the river in me. I’m freed
up to be anybody else,

my molecules twinned
with the sound. O erotic ours,

pass me not. Keep me in
the pocket. O percussive

dissent, devotion is anything you say
go awry. In this early hour,

keep me recursive. The impulse is
to lose my feet. I’m yet overcome.

You seismic drop.
You sovereign fade.

O black chaos, I’m in study
at your center, turn me out.

Taylor Johnson writes poems in Washington, D.C.

You Might Also Enjoy

The Crystal Lithium

Aaron Smith

James Schuyler thought to call his book The Crystal Lithium
when he was my age without knowing he was going to. . .

poems

Baffler Newsletter

New email subscribers receive a free copy of our current issue.

Further Reading

 October 3

If a person can’t survive by the acid terms of the market, they don’t deserve to survive at all.

Heads Up: We recently updated our privacy policy to clarify how and why we collect personal data. By using our site, you acknowledge that you have read and understand this policy.