Patrick Redmond

to fall into & become, endless

I hunched my shoulders

& read the morning

as a landslide in Genoa

 sent 200 coffins into the Liguarian  sea

where they were live-streamed

bobbing until divers  retrieved the remains

of the endless, wanting

to keep the bobbing buried.

I brushed my teeth for a small amount of blood & thought

of  salt water in my hair,

& its strands twisting upwards

towards  a  pit of atmosphere

dangling above a  song

I couldn’t sing without the soul

the sound was made for.