We write furious and hurricane
We write finger tips melting black into keys and veins
Chewing on paper lines
We write elbows cut into tables
and cushions soaked with word sweat
We claim the air around us in in looped sentence handcuffs

We write like armies, low and wounded with capped guns

We write like clouds saturated, pressing into sky, thudding
and full
Threatening roofs with blue downpour and sodden truth

We write like asylums
bent out of shape by lunacy, mashed potato
The smell of lost rooms and corridor steps

We write like stalled express trains
Children on tracks, the newspaper shuffle and chug

We write like rusty saxophones calling to high-rise windows