Don’t Let Me Break Down
Let me slip
into some category
of grace and wonder, like tilted rain. Give me something
I can bleed upon! an honest streak
over laminated grain. . . Each week
undresses me: ‘til I’m meaningless,
as a blue moon. So fucking lonely. A good CD player
and a bad transmission, man; find me a woman
I could be in the dark with.
Mercy Bath
Delight
in the body
and mind, and the possibilities
that surround
love
any given time, any
age. It’s being able to look
at the delectable
moment
as something to devour. These justifications,
awkward movements,
praying for a little grace, some room
to fail. The body needs this, the mind
needs this – we are here, despite
ourselves, cutting time
off the distance
to never, hoisting our eyes, briefly,
back from oblivion. When that spray of expression
hits, man. Ahhh. . . ain’t that the best! each week’s
end I bury myself in beer, always somehow for her
and me, basking
in the glory,
indulging our heartscape; dig in
to the oncoming week, now,
like it’s the only thing that matters, which of course
it is.
Jonas Kyle-Sidell is an adjunct English teacher at CCBC Catonsville. He is currently seeking book publishment for his book, “Outta Time, in Love,” a collection of these collage-like poems. He’s previously had poems published in the Los Angeles Review, Main Street Rag, Gargoyle, Pearl, Haight Ashbury Literary Journal, Smile Hon! You’re in Baltimore, Paradigm, The Melancholy Dane, and Welter.
Illustration by John Whitehead
