on.

by Corey Ruzicano

​

time moved on more elegantly

than i’d have liked

its wheels greased with surprising iniquity

i wanted the floor boards to buckle

the breaks to spit sparks in their vigor

but everything swam by

 

my brother and i drive a foot at a time

crawling forward over the rain-darkened gravel

eyes like saucers

peeled for the sight of salamanders

in their mysterious, perilous pilgrimage

not knowing the danger rolling overhead

not salamanders, actually

newts

if i’m precise

which i sometimes am

soaked to the bone

lap full of lizards

tiny hands and feet

kissing the insides of my elbow,

up and down the backs of my hands

so many small things

are just as hard

to hold

 

and yet even in the dark

i can see them

the poppies are blooming in california

and it is hard for this heart to stay broken

 

stay in the not knowing with me

i want to say

at first to you

but more to me

don’t fall for falling

don’t feel for proof

            (where there need not

            can not be any)

orpheus, do not look back

there is more to see than your closed eyelids can offer

this dark is more worth its salt

            pillar or shaker or else

eurydice told me so

shoot straight

you can see the foot in front of you

and

when you drive in to it

you will see the foot in front of that

and that is enough.

 

things are not as simple

as the path the crow flies

above from one want to the next

we are winding

and unkempt

but so little survives

asphalt

            or salt, to be sure

 

just think of what we can be here

in the dirt.