All Steps to the New Space

There is a clamp           a mass in the middle squeeze
The head becomes one to another thing
/
Once asked
on one knee           oh my leg       / Rush to the rocks     /
-
Clump of mud we rub in our eyes
before I could even think about the rest

If it made sense    just at the time of mass
inclusive sky       to those ready to /        be included
to those hesitant will wait an hour          / in the car
In the hot afternoon
flossed       in just married signature
Cans connect to teeth
-

Toward the green of the pasture     yellow taper
fire on the blade -
Whistles a scout could name       /

Strung from the ceiling
Lights knot underneath / a red
chasing me         / green
into the waterbed
-
Movement of the cans    crisp /       washed
Onto the rocks
     / the way it talks   the water    -  the way we do not
listen to each whistle
alone    but as a whole
-
Do        we hear /        grumble in
                       when the red revs

Voice in synchronic height aims us
       One said it will      chase all direction
without an air release - - inhale
creaked hiss inside of the brick
-
Watch in the pattern crumble      / in the up part
The bumped neck    / my back arch /
- rust lines the steel underneath
the oil                        trap / based fireplace
underneath       the red
brick hand
to the sky       /

Angelo Maneage is a grocery clerk and data associate in rural Northeast Ohio. He has work here, or coming to here: poets.org, Hobart, Sprung Formal, X-R-A-Y, Inverted Syntax, other places. He is a poetry editor for BARNHOUSE.