Jim Hatchett's Blog (3)

CONFUSED IN THE UNDERBRUSH

FAR AWAY FROM CITY SOUNDS,

SUN WAS SETTING, TIME STOOD STILL,

BLACKBIRD FLEW OUT OF THE GLARE.

BLACKBIRD SPOKE

I STRAINED TO HEAR,

MIXED WITH SUNLIGHT

WORDS TRANSPARENT

"I AM THE BUTADINE INHIBITOR,

I AM THE FLYING WOOD HIP,

I AM THE THIN GUAZE OF VITAMIN "C".

HEAD ABOVE THE CANOPY

FLASHING SUNLIGHT CHIMES THE RETINAS,

A GROUP OF MOMENTS HUNG IN SILENCE,

ELECTRONS HITTING PHOSPHOROUS.

GLOWING,

LIKE YOURS IN THE HOUSE

COLOR SIGNAL LEAKAGE.

BLEEDING THROUGH US,

LIKE THEIRS,

IN THE WORLD

LONG AND SHORTWAVE SIGNALS

WASHING,

LIKE GAMMA THROUGH THE FLESH.

ENDLESS UNSEEN PULSES.

DANCING,

LIKE LIGHTNING

IN A STORM.

Flopping like caught fish, paint flies.

The brush a shoehorn, for wedging onto the surface,

Bits, of the inside sky.