routine

do you see the contrail gash
how it tears the sky?

apply direct pressure
at night we’re statues, arms
upraised

night bleeds in from the east
count the tourniquet stars

so slow we dream
like poisoned trees

in the morning I take
the same little walk I always do

James Brush

James Brush is a teacher and writer who lives in Austin, TX. He tries to get outside as much as possible.

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