the north sea road
David M. Morini
The floating mountain mined for micah
and magnesium cowered under the shill
and plume, marksmanship from above.
He's dressed in borrowed gear; gray
peacoat, scarf, knit cap and lugging a broken
flag; the yesterday contingent war painted
his cheeks white and darkened his lids blue.
There
is a lead-in:
of
nightmares,
of
granting
wishes,
of
talent
coerced
with
the
brush
of
raking
leaves. Floating mountain mined for diaries and tangerines
leans into the rain shower. He traveled without
me with a wooden board stuck with a nail. That
vast diary made its way to the surface, emerged
in a ripple and froze, binding up and pages warped
for many more seasons. Weeds flatten from the
snow; we are unable to talk to each other. And
when the thaw illuminates new ground the grass
stays flat making way…just making way. Thaw
also brings sticky mud, treadable and leaves an
impression. Animal tracks on
floating mountain mined for gore and aloe.
David M. Morini recently graduated from the MFA in Writing program at California College of the Arts. Currently, he lives in Hokkaido, Japan, a small, snow-bound city, teaching English to junior high school kids. He served on the Poetry Board for Eleven Eleven, has been published in Beeswax Magazine and The Blink Zine and was one of three coordinators for Don't Mention It's 24 Hour Reading held at PLAySPACE Gallery, San Francisco. Contact: davidmmorini@gmail.com.
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