Time Management

The minute I start talking about being
on a bus headed to Boston
I’ll have to address what bled
and has been drying for the last 5 years
and left the Newbury brick tainted
in corner store shutter manic-at-closing
metal tinge when I breathe: in some half
window of night, the irreversible
spatial investment of the body
interjected from its dream jungle of concrete
forms left uninterrupted until the moment
I could remove my forehead from
your chest and press it to the air.

-C.S. Henderson