DUSK RUMINATOR

(The final line is quoted from “A Teamster’s Farewell” by Carl Sandburg, 1916)

Cruising around with my siblings in a Toyota Camry,
soon to be drinking moonlight as a contribution to the ephemeris,

self-obligatory to anthologize an existence like a bare heart
sizzle-muscle-thumping in a pothole made of The Great Lakes’ ice water.

Vaillant, Émile, and Caserio: they all shouted the same, last proclamation.
Such trials to be deciphered as an aphoristic plea to break the wheel!

The moon itself: grey, craterous, emphatic. It makes us sniff out
the air like bloodthirst birthed in the cementum of a fang.

Then, we wait: to shout out, to be back-turned talked upon, to be talked with.
We wait on the Guinness sky to blanket over our eyes— the cue to feast on the night—

“O God,
there’s noises I’m going to be hungry for.”

To entertain her cerebrum after coating it with the haze of Purple Kush, Brooke Nicole Plummer brought a 195/75R14 sized, remote-controlled tarantula into class and soon discovered the true nature of “uproarious” in a live setting. Her first chapbook, FLYOVER, COMPILED NOTHINGS, was published in November of 2018. Several online and print publications can be found through various small presses.